Children of the Dark Collection
by cleotheo
Summary: Companion pieces to my series - Children of the Dark. A series of collection pieces all set in the same universe as Children of the Dark. Features stories from before, after and during the series and containing various pairings and characters. Any requests welcomed. Dark Hermione! Dark Harry!
1. Homecoming

**A/N - Welcome to Children of the Dark Collection. This series will feature companion pieces to my series, Children of the Dark - and at the moment I'm going to try and publish every Wednesday. At the moment I've rated this as a T, but it is likely to go up to M if I write any saucier scenes. I've also kept the characters the same as the other Children stories - but these pieces features far more than just Draco, Hermione and Harry. A lot of other characters are featured - mainly from the dark side, but there will likely be some from the light side as well.**

 **As for timings, the pieces will fall into three categories. Those set before the trio start school - some of those will be further back before the trio were born, and some will be when the trio were younger. Some will be set in between the seven years of Children of the Dark and will feature missing scenes or moments that were just mentioned in the actual story. The last batch will be set after school - although none of them will be published until I'm sure they'll contain no spoilers for the end of sixth year and seventh year.**

 **This piece is one of those set before school. It's what happens when Severus goes to the Dursleys to get Harry back. Just remember, if there's anything you want to see, let me know and I'll try and write it. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Homecoming.**

Severus stood outside of number four Privet Drive, his heart hammering in his chest. He was about to be reunited with his son if all went well, and he was understandably nervous. It had taken all of Severus's self-control not to rush in when he'd first discovered where Harry was, but fortunately Lucius had been on hand to ensure he proceeded in a logical way. That had meant fully checking out Privet Drive and the Dursleys, and any protection spells that might have been placed upon them, before moving into action. It had taken a couple of weeks, but Severus and Lucius were now sure that Dumbledore wouldn't even be aware of Severus's visit as long as he played things right when he spoke to Lily's sister.

Taking a deep breath, Severus marched up the neat garden path and rang the Dursleys doorbell. Less than a minute later, the door was opened by a woman carrying a small child. At first, Severus thought he was looking at Harry, but then he realised not only was the child larger than Harry, he didn't have Lily's bright green eyes and his own jet black hair. Tearing his eyes away from the child, he looked up at the woman and came face to face with Lily's sister, Petunia. Severus hadn't seen Petunia since they were children, but he recognised the sour look on her face. He'd never been able to decide if she always looked as though she was sucking on a lemon, or if it was just her obvious distaste for him that soured her face.

"Hello Petunia," Severus said softly.

"Severus?" Petunia frowned, not quite sure if the tall, young man in front of her was the scrawny greasy haired boy her sister used to be friends with.

"It's me, Petunia," Severus said. "May I come in?"

"I'm rather busy," Petunias replied, clearly not wanting a wizard in her house.

"It's about Harry," Severus said. "And it's urgent?"

"Harry," Petunia repeated. "What does Lily's son have to do with you?"

"He's also my son," Severus replied.

"Your son?" Petunia cackled. "What about Lily's loser of a husband."

"Potter is not Harry's father, I am," Severus said firmly. "And if you'll let me in, I want to discuss taking him home with me."

"You want to take him off our hands?" Petunia asked in obvious glee. "In that case, you better come in."

Severus frowned slightly at Petunia's glee in potentially getting rid of Harry as he followed the woman into her perfectly neat and tidy house. He didn't know the details of what Dumbledore had told Petunia about her sisters' death, but he'd assumed Petunia and her husband had willingly taken Harry in, despite the fact the two sisters had never seen eye to eye. As such he'd arrived preparing to fight for his son, but things might be easier than he thought.

Severus followed Petunia into the front room, where she instantly put her own son down in a bouncy chair and strapped him in. Severus watched Petunia cooing over her son, before his attention darted around the rest of the room, looking for his own son. There were plenty of pictures on display in the room, but none of them contained Harry, and there was no sign of another child in the house.

"Where is Harry?" Severus asked as Petunia turned back to him.

"He's sleeping," Petunia replied, waving a dismissive hand to the corner of the room where Severus spotted a cardboard box half hidden behind the chair.

Severus walked over to the corner and was horrified to find Harry lying in the box. His son wasn't asleep, he was merely lying quietly, looking up at the world with sad eyes. Immediately Severus scooped his son up and cradled him in his arms.

"Why is he in a box?" He demanded as he whirled back around to face Lily's sister.

"He likes it in there," Petunia answered with a shrug.

"I'm sure he would like it in a chair like your son's," Severus shot back.

"That's Dudley's chair," Petunia said, stepping in front of her son as though she thought Severus was going to remove him and place Harry in the chair.

"And you couldn't have gotten a second one?" Severus asked with a shake of his head.

"Why should we?" Petunia hissed. "It's not our place to pay to look after my sister's child."

"Then why agree to take him in?" Severus questioned.

"We didn't agree, he was dumped on us," Petunia said with a bitter laugh.

"Dumped?"

"Yes, dumped. We got up one morning and there was Harry in a box on our front doorstep," Petunia explained. "There was a note in with him from some wizard or other. The note informed us of his name and that he was Lily's son. It also said that we were to take him in and look after him."

"So you just followed the instructions out of the kindness of your heart?" Severus snorted.

"No, we took him in because we were too afraid not to," Petunia spat. "I've seen what magic can do, and it's not good. We didn't know if we were being watched, so we took the boy in and we've been looking after him ever since."

"By leaving him in a box in the corner," Severus snarled. "Don't worry Petunia, you won't have to look after him anymore. My son is coming home with me."

"And what if the wizard who left him with us, Dimblebores, or whatever he was called, comes looking for him?" Petunia questioned. "I am not putting my family in danger from you freaks with magic."

"There's no magic in place keeping Harry with you," Severus explained. He and Lucius had thoroughly checked and they'd actually been surprised that Dumbledore seemed to have left Harry with the Dursleys without putting any sort of protective measures in place. "I'm also confident, Dumbledore is not watching you in any way. My guess is, no-one will even think of looking for Harry until it's time for him to start Hogwarts."

"Your guesses won't keep us safe, Severus," Petunia snarled. "I'm more than happy to let you have your son, but in return we need protection."

"I can do that," Severus said with a nod of his head. "I can arrange it so that I'm alerted if anyone with magic comes within a few feet of the house. I can be here before anyone can get to you. But you have to do something for me in return."

"I'm giving you your son, isn't that enough?" Petunia asked.

"I was taking Harry whatever you said," Severus replied with a snort as he pulled his son closer to him. "I now want something else from you."

"What?" Petunia asked warily.

"If we ever need it, you and your husband are to play guardians to Harry," Severus said. "No-one in the wizarding world is to know I'm his father and that is he with me. As far as everyone will be concerned, he grew up with you and your family and he still lives with you."

"And how are we going to pull that off?" Petunia snorted. "All my neighbours will know Harry doesn't live here."

"We're not trying to fool the neighbours, we're fooling a few witches and wizards who might not even ask questions," Severus replied. "I don't even know if it's ever going to come up. All I'm saying is that if we need to, you and your husband have to be prepared to act as though Harry has been living with you."

"I don't know if we can do that," Petunia said slowly.

"I'll make it worth your while," Severus said, looking around the room and noting that Petunia seemed like the materialistic sort. "I'll give you money every month, and if we need you, you do as we say."

"A thousand a month," Petunia announced.

"A thousand it is," Severus replied. "Forgive me if I don't use a bank transfer. You'll get your money in cash on the first of every month, starting next month. I'll also make sure no-one magical can get near you or your family without me knowing. Hopefully we won't have to see each other too often, but if we ever do need you Petunia, you better come through for us."

Petunia gulped at the implied threat in Severus's voice, and the way his cold black eyes bored into her. Nodding her head quickly, she gathered the few bits and pieces she had for Harry while Severus erected the spells that would keep her family safe. When Severus was finished, he picked Harry up in his arms, and ignoring the bag of hand-me-downs that Petunia claimed belonged to Harry, he strode towards the back door.

"Where are you going?" Petunia demanded, running after Severus.

"I take it you'd rather your neighbours didn't see me leave the house with Harry and then vanish into thin air," Severus remarked. "You back garden is shielded enough so that I can leave without anyone noticing anything."

"Fine," Petunia huffed as Severus walked out into the garden.

Slamming the door shut behind him, she watched as he walked down the garden and into the shadows of some overhanging trees. And then he was gone. One minute he was there and the next he vanished as though he'd just been a figment of her imagination. Relieved that her life could go back to normal, Petunia turned her back on the garden and hurried back into the front room to check on Dudley.

While Petunia was celebrating her life returning to normal, Severus was arriving back at his father's house. He'd had a long talk with Beth about what would happen next, and they'd both agreed that Harry should stay with her, while Severus took up his teaching position and carried on as normal. Severus wasn't sure how easy that would be to do, but he knew it would be worth it in the end, once his father was better and the truth could emerge about who Severus was and who Harry was.

Entering the front room, Severus found that not only was Beth waiting for him, but Lucius and Narcissa were also present. Hermione was sitting on the sofa beside Beth, a soft toy in her mouth as she garbled on quietly to herself. Draco meanwhile was fast asleep in a pristine baby blue basket which was sitting on the floor beside Narcissa.

"Is this him?" Beth gushed, getting up to meet her grandson.

"This is him," Severus confirmed with a smile as he handed Harry over to Beth. "This is Harry."

"He's lovely, Severus," Narcissa said with a smile as Beth sat down with Harry in her arms.

"Look Hermione," Beth said to her daughter, who was several months older than Harry. "This is Harry, he's your nephew."

Severus watched as his little sister, reached out and gently stroked Harry's face. Harry giggled in response, which made Hermione giggle and stroke him again. Severus smiled as the pair bonded with each other. With any luck they'd be close growing up and it would be as though Harry had a sibling. After all, it wasn't like Severus was going to have more kids to give his son an actual brother or sister, not now Lily was dead.

"How did it go?" Lucius asked as Severus sat down.

"She wants money to agree to help us if we need it," Severus replied.

"Bloody woman, you should have just obliviated her," Lucius said.

"This way is easier, we might need the Dursleys again in the future," Severus said. "Besides, a bit of money a month is a small price to pay for having my son home safely."

Reaching across for Harry, Severus picked his son back up, causing his sister to squeal in disappointment.

"Looks like Harry has a fan," Narcissa laughed as Hermione crawled over to her brother and got up on his knee next to Harry.

"Something tells me those two are going to be trouble," Beth said with a fond smile, as right on cue, Draco let out a loud wail as he woke up.

"I think you mean three," Lucius said as Narcissa picked their son up out of his basket.

"What have we let ourselves in for?" Beth laughed as Narcissa moved over to where Severus was sitting to introduce Draco to Harry.

The three young children were definitely going to be a handful, but none of the adults would have it any other way. The trio were going to grow up together, and hopefully a tight bond would form between them. A bond that would last them a lifetime and help them cope with whatever the wizarding world threw at them.


	2. Blueback Ridge

**A/N - Among the most popular of requests when I announced this collection, were bits of Beth and Voldemort's relationship. I have plenty more pieces with the couple planned, but this one goes right back to where it all began - their first meeting. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Blueback Ridge.**

Blueback Ridge was a deserted wizarding village nestled on the border between America and Canada, and in a large mansion overlooking the village resided The Dark Lord. Only a few short years ago Blueback Ridge was a thriving wizarding community, until a strange occurrence wiped out the town's occupants. Rumour had it, the occurrence was something to do with dark magic, which was rumoured to be practiced by the former owner of the mansion Voldemort was currently exploring.

Since dark magic was what Voldemort specialised in, he'd arrived in Blueback Ridge eager to find out more. He had been hoping to actually speak to the owner of the mansion, a wizard named Brock Granger. However, when he arrived with a couple of his Death Eaters, Macnair and Yaxley, the place was deserted. Not one to give up straight away, Voldemort had ordered his two men to begin searching the place for anything useful.

Since the mansion was so large it was taking time to search and the three men were in their third days' stay in the mansion. Currently Voldemort was alone in what he was assuming was the study of old man Granger. He'd just discovered the place located behind a hidden door in a bedroom, and he suspected that it was going to be the place where he would find any dark materials. That wasn't to say they hadn't already found a few bits and pieces scattered through the house, but there was nothing startling. Certainty nothing to get Voldemort excited about. Still the study could be different, and it could make the whole trip worthwhile.

An hour into his search, Voldemort had already put aside several books to take back to England. However, he was disturbed from his searching by a loud, high-pitched scream which sounded like it was coming from inside the mansion. Instantly on guard, he grabbed his wand and cautiously emerged from the hidden room. Closing it back up, so no-one else realised it was there, Voldemort paused as he heard the scream again. It was definitely coming from inside the house. But was it one of his men, or had they stumbled across an intruder?

Following the screams, which were becoming increasingly frequent, Voldemort quietly moved down the stairs and towards a room he knew was a library. Reaching the doors of the library, he peered inside the room and almost dropped his wand in shock at what he saw. Yaxley was magically pinned up against the wall, clearly unable to move or speak, while Macnair was writhing on the floor in agony, the high-pitched screams coming from his mouth.

However, what had grabbed Voldemort's attention wasn't the predicament his two Death Eaters had found himself in, it was the witch standing over Macnair. She was a young witch, maybe in her early twenties, with a cascade of wild brunette curls and brown eyes that were flashing dangerously. She was dressed all in black, although it wasn't the standard wizard's wear she was wearing. She was decked out in a pair of skin tight black trousers, a pair of knee high black boots, a clinging corset style top which barely contained her having bosom, and the ensemble was finished with a long black cloak.

"I know you're there," The witch suddenly called, never lifting her focus from what she was doing to Macnair. "Show yourself or you'll get the same treatment as your friends."

Intrigued by the young witch, Voldemort sheathed his wand in his robes and stepped into the room. He wasn't worried about being unarmed as he had full control of his wandless magic and he was confident he could disarm the stunning witch in front of him without much effort at all. The witch waited until he was virtually at her side, before she halted whatever she was doing to Macnair, and with a flourish of her wand, she sent him flying into the wall next to Yaxley, stringing him up in the same position as his partner in crime.

"Impressive," Voldemort conceded with a nod of his head.

"Do I care what you think?" The witch snorted, turning her ferocious brown eyes on Voldemort. "Who are you and what are you doing in my grandfather's house?"

"Your grandfather," Voldemort said slowly. "You must be a Granger then."

"I am," The witch replied with a nod. "And who the hell are you?"

"Sorry for the intrusion, we thought the place was deserted," Voldemort said, not quite sure why he was being so polite to the young lady in front of him. "My name is Lord Voldemort."

"Lord?" The witch cocked her eyebrow, but Voldemort could see she wasn't impressed by his introduction. "Since when do wizards have titles?"

"I'm unique," Voldemort replied.

"Good for you," The witch said with a shrug of her shoulder. "But I'm pissed. You have no right to be raiding my grandfather's house."

"You're right, and I'm sorry," Voldemort said, holding his hands up apologetically. "If we had known you existed, we would have sought you out and asked for your permission."

"Permission to do what?" The witch asked, curiosity entering her brown orbs.

"Look around for dark magic," Voldemort answered. "I heard your grandfather practiced the dark arts. I'm also a practitioner, and I was hoping to seek his advice."

"My grandfather was a novice," The witch snorted. "Just look at what he did to the village. How do you think he ended up dead? He meddled with things he didn't understand, and the entire village paid the price."

"My sources said dark magic was common in this area, and that this mansion was the source of many dark rituals," Voldemort said.

"That's right, but my grandfather wasn't the one doing the dark magic. That would be me, I'm the enchantress that practices dark arts."

"You?" Voldemort took in the witch with greater appreciation. Of course he knew witches could be every bit as dark as wizards, but aside from Bellatrix, a young follower of his who showed serious potential, he'd never met a witch who was truly capable of darkness.

"Me," The witch replied with a slow smirk. "So needless to say, I know what I'm doing when it comes to making people hurt. Just ask your friends, I'm sure they'll testify to how much pain I can cause."

"Just what did you do to them?" Voldemort asked. He wasn't bothered about Yaxley and Macnair's suffering, he was just interested in what the beautiful witch in front of him was capable of.

"I just incapacitated him," The witch answered, pointing to Yaxley. "But him," She continued, turning to Macnair and glaring angrily at him. "I showed him that it's not polite to come up behind a woman, grab her and make lewd threats."

"He assaulted you?" Voldemort asked in a low voice. He knew some of his followers could be rough with their women, and frankly he honestly couldn't care less what they did when he wasn't around, but he hated to think of the lovely young witch in front of him being touched by Macnair's grubby hands.

"He tried," The witch replied with a shrug. "I soon made him regret it. In fact, I don't think he'll be bothering another witch again. Not unless he wants me to remove his other testicle."

Voldemort winced slightly, and looked over to Macnair. The wizard was clearly still in pain, and the only reason his cries couldn't be heard was because he'd been silenced. He supposed he could take pity on him, and either force the witch to undo what she'd done to him, or fix him himself, but he didn't fancy doing either of those things. Let Macnair suffer, and next time he might think twice before trying to attack a young witch.

"As nice as this talk has been, I think it's time you left," The witch said. "This is my house, and I don't appreciate trespassers."

"You clearly haven't been living in it," Voldemort said. It was clear when they'd arrived that the house had been deserted for some time, most likely since the accident that had claimed the lives of the owner and the villagers.

"I can't risk it," The witch replied with a shrug. "Every now and again the Aurors turn up, just to check on the place. They think I died along with my grandfather. I can't risk them realising that it wasn't him practising dark magic, and they might do that if I turn up."

"So what, you've been hiding out nearby?" Voldemort asked.

"It's none of your business where I've been, all that matters is that I'm here and this is my house," The witch snarled. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be," Voldemort replied with an evil smirk. "You would be if you knew who I was."

"I know who you are," The witch replied with a low, sultry laugh. "You're the so called 'Dark Lord'. You're supposedly the darkest wizard that ever lived."

"And you my dear are quite possibly the feistiest witch I've ever met," Voldemort returned, not sure if he was impressed or annoyed that she knew who he was and still wasn't scared of him. "Not many people could hold a conversation with me the way you've just done."

"I'm not most people," The witch replied with a smirk.

"So I see," Voldemort said with a slow nod as his eyes once again scanned over the woman in front of him. In recent years he'd all but given sex and women up, despite Bellatrix's best attempts to seduce him with her nubile body, but now the blood was flowing and he was becoming aroused bantering with the beauty in front of him. "I have a proposition for you, Miss Granger."

"I'm not that sort of girl," The witch responded with a wry smirk as she gazed pointedly at Voldemort's crotch.

Since he was wearing a flowing robe, Voldemort knew she couldn't see how she was affecting him, so he didn't bother to look down, he merely chuckled, his admiration for her going up another notch. She really was the most fascinating creature, and he would do everything in his power to ensure she didn't just walk out of his life here and now.

"My proposition is simple," Voldemort said. "You come with me, and I will teach you everything I know about the dark arts."

"I don't need a teacher," The witch scoffed. "I'm well versed in the dark arts."

"Maybe, but there are things I can teach you that no-one else can," Voldemort said, his voice taking on a seductive tone. "You want to be the best, I can see that already. I can help you with that. We can help each other. You let me take what I want from here, and I'll help you fulfil your potential."

For a long while the witch just stared at Voldemort, clearly mulling over his offer, before she nodded her head once. "I accept. But I will not become one of your Death Eaters. And I will not call you Lord anything."

"I guess Voldemort will do," Voldemort conceded.

"No," The witch replied with a shake of her head. "That's not your name either. I heard it was what you chose to call yourself once you left school."

"That is true, but I don't use my given name," Voldemort said.

"That's a shame, I can't come with you if I can't call you something," The witch said with a sigh. "The offer was nice while it lasted. I guess the deal's off."

"Fine," Voldemort bit out, not quite sure why he was so desperate to keep the young witch around. Sure she was sexy, and his head was filled of wicked things he wanted to do to her, but she was also frustrating and slightly annoying. "I will allow you to use my name. Although I would like the same courtesy. I can't keep calling you Miss Granger."

"Annabeth," The witch said, holding out her hand. "My friend's call me Beth."

"Nice to meet you, Beth," Voldemort said in a quiet voice, which neither of his Death Eaters could hear, as he took hold of her hand. The second he did so it was as though someone had sent a jolt of energy up his arm, and looking at Beth's surprised expression, she'd felt it too. "You can call me Tom."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship, Tom," Beth purred, his lips curving into a smirk. "Don't you think so?"

"I do," Voldemort agreed, a predatory glint in his eyes.

A little voice inside his head was telling him he'd just met his match, and he couldn't wait to find out what lay ahead for him and Beth. One thing was for sure, the trip to Blueback Ridge had definitely been worth his time. In fact, it could very well have been the best decision he'd ever made.


	3. Parisian Proposal

**Parisian Proposal.**

Severus sat on the edge of the king sized bed, staring thoughtfully down at the ring box which contained the delicate diamond engagement ring he planned on using to propose to Rosmerta. In order to propose, he'd brought her to Paris for a few days, where Lucius had generously given them use of the Malfoys penthouse in the French capital. The only problem was, now they were here, Severus didn't have a clue how to propose to his girlfriend.

The truth it, he'd never given much thought to how to propose to someone as after Lily died, he hadn't thought it would ever happen to him. After losing Lily, he'd been content to devote his life to Harry, and he'd convinced himself that his son and the rest of his family were all he needed to be happy.

Then Rosmerta had entered his life and a part of Severus that he thought had died with Lily, flickered back to life. Not that he was comparing Lily to Rosmerta in any way, as they were two very different women. His bond with Lily had stretched back to when they were children, and there was a time when she knew him better than anyone else. Their brief time together had been the highlight of Severus's life, aside from Harry, and he knew nothing could ever compare to the love he felt for Lily.

However, that wasn't to say he didn't love Rosmerta, because he did. He loved her very much. She would never replace Lily, but she was equally as important to Severus. Rosmerta had brought him back to life and shown him that his life wasn't over just because he'd lost his first love. Rosmerta had brought passion and excitement back into Severus's life, and he knew he would be lost without her. And that was why, he needed the proposal to be perfect. He wanted Rosmerta to know how much he loved her and how much he needed her in his life.

Looking down at the ring, Severus wished he'd asked Lucius, or even his father for advice on how to propose. Both of them had done it before, and more importantly, both of them had received the answer they'd wanted from the witches they'd asked to marry them. Whereas Severus had never done it before, and he was worried that he would make a mistake. He doubted there was actually a right or wrong way to propose, but if there was a wrong way, he was sure he would find it.

Severus shook his head as he cursed his lack of experience with women. He'd hardly been Mr Popular in Hogwarts, and it wasn't until after he'd left school that he'd had his first lover. Because of his feelings for Lily, he'd never gotten seriously involved with anyone before she re-entered his life and for the briefest time it appeared as though he was going to get what he'd always wanted. Then Lily had died, and Severus's broken heart had led him to avoid women completely. He'd been so focused on Harry, that he hadn't even had another lover after Lily, until Rosmerta had come along and swept him off his feet. All that meant he was hardly the most experienced of wizards when it came to the opposite sex, and it made finding the right way to propose rather difficult.

Lost in thought, Severus didn't hear Rosmerta heading towards the bedroom until the door began to open. Not wanting to be caught with the ring before he had a plan in place, Severus just had time to shove it under the pillow before his girlfriend entered the room.

"Here you are," Rosmerta said with a smile. "What are you doing?"

"Just finishing the unpacking," Severus answered. He had actually been unpacking, before he found the ring and got preoccupied with how to propose.

"I was thinking we should get ready and go out for dinner," Rosmerta said. "Narcissa recommended a quiet little restaurant on the banks of the river. She said if we mention the name Malfoy, we'll get a table no bother."

"Sounds good," Severus said with a nod.

As they dressed, Severus wondered if he should take the ring and propose over dinner, especially if the place they were dining was going to be romantic. However, Rosmerta was never out of the room long enough for him to grab the ring, and by the time she was ready to go, looking ravishing in a clinging sapphire blue dress, the ring was still nestled underneath the pillow. Severus hadn't even had enough time to use magic to summon the ring without Rosmerta spotting what he was doing.

"Are we ready?" Rosmerta asked, smiling at Severus.

"We're ready," Severus answered, deciding that the ring would have to stay where it was and he would propose later.

The restaurant they went to was every bit as lovely as Narcissa had described, and as she promised a mention of the Malfoy name not only got them a table, but the best one in the place. The food was delicious and the atmosphere romantic, but Severus was pleased he hadn't brought the ring to propose. As perfect as the setting would have been, it was a bit too public for his liking. He knew if he did propose everyone in the restaurant would turn to watch, and that just didn't appeal to him. He would rather propose in private, when it was just him and Rosmerta.

"Let's go for a walk before we head back," Rosmerta suggested as they left the restaurant.

"Anything you want," Severus said, casting a few charms to keep them warm in the bitter winter air, before taking hold of his girlfriend's hand.

As they walked, chatting quietly to each other, Severus became aware of how perfect it would be for a proposal. The lights of Paris glittered behind them, and it seemed as though they were the only two brave enough to go for a stroll down beside the river in the middle of winter. Severus could just picture himself dropping to one knee and asking Rosmerta to marry him, but he couldn't do it without the ring.

"What's wrong?" Rosmerta asked.

"Nothing," Severus replied. "What makes you think there's anything wrong?"

"You're scowling," Rosmerta replied with a chuckle.

"It's my natural look," Severus retorted, his lips curving into a smile.

"Not these days," Rosmerta said. "These days you seem lighter. Happier."

"That's because I am happy," Severus said sincerely as he paused and turned to face his girlfriend. "You make me happy, Rosmerta."

"Good, because you make me happy," Rosmerta replied. Wrapping her arms around Severus's neck, she pulled him closer to her and connected their lips in a searing kiss.

From the instant they'd started seeing each other the sexual attraction between them had been strong, and it as the most natural thing in the world, for Severus's hands to wander over his girlfriend's sexy body as he kissed her. The fact they were in public was the only reason the kiss ended fairly quickly, albeit with both of them breathing heavily.

"I think I've had enough walking," Rosmerta muttered. "How about we go back to the penthouse and find another way to exercise."

"I like how you think, Rosmerta," Severus chuckled.

Taking hold of his girlfriend, he pulled out his wand and apparated them to the hallway outside of the penthouse. Because the penthouse wasn't actually theirs, they couldn't apparate directly inside, but the hallway was close enough. As Severus fished the key out of his pocket, he felt Rosmerta snuggle up behind him, placing teasing kisses on his neck while her hands snaked around his front and began fondling his crotch.

Slightly distracted, Severus finally managed to get the key into the lock and swing the door open. Striding into the penthouse, he pulled Rosmerta in with him, and the second the door was shut, he had her pinned up against it, kissing her deeply while his hands got to work on removing her cloak. Rosmerta's hands were also busy, and she quickly pushed Severus's robe off, before starting on unbuttoning his shirt.

It didn't take long before the amorous pair had managed to completely undress each other, and a trail of discarded clothes led from the front door to the master bedroom. The last item of clothing to be discarded were Rosmerta's knickers, which Severus threw haphazardly over his shoulder as the pair collapsed onto the bed, still kissing and touching once another. As they rolled over on the bed, Rosmerta dislodged one of the pillows and her fingers brushed over the hidden ring box. The feeling of the box brought her out of the moment, and she turned her head to see what she'd touched.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked, looking up from where he'd been distracted by his girlfriend's bare breasts, only to find Rosmerta looking distinctly uninterested in his ministrations.

"What's this?" Rosmerta asked, picking up the box and showing it to Severus.

"Bollocks, you weren't supposed to find that," Severus muttered.

"You're keeping secrets, Severus?" Rosmerta teased.

"Not anymore I'm not," Severus said with a sigh as he plucked the box from his girlfriend's hands. "It wasn't supposed to be like this you know."

"What wasn't supposed to be like this?" Rosmerta questioned with a frown.

Instead of answering, Severus flipped open the box, revealing the delicate diamond ring he'd spent weeks choosing. Rosmerta gasped at the sight, and looked between the ring and her boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"It is," Severus confirmed. "This might not be the ideal time or the ideal place, but Rosmerta, will you marry me?"

"Of course I'll marry you," Rosmerta squealed, throwing her arms around Severus and connecting their lips.

"Sorry the proposal wasn't perfect," Severus said as he slipped the ring onto his new fiancée's hand.

"Who needs perfect," Rosmerta replied with a shrug as she admired her ring. "The important thing is that you asked and I said yes."

"Although, I do think we are going to have to come up with a better story to tell people," Severus said with a chuckle. "I am not telling people I proposed in bed. The only thing worse would be if I'd done it mid-sex."

"A few minutes later and you might," Rosmerta chuckled. "We can think of a nice romantic story before we go home. But for now, let's get back to us. I do believe I was about to be thoroughly ravished by my husband to be."

"I think I can manage that," Severus replied with a smirk. "Anything for the future Mrs Snape."

Laughing happily, Rosmerta pulled Severus back to her and re-connected their lips as they picked up where they'd left off moments earlier. Only now they were no longer just having fun, they were celebrating the fact they were engaged and would be spending the rest of their lives with each other.


	4. A Father's Fury

**A/N - This piece takes places during the fourth COTD during the triwizard tournament. This piece came about thanks to a review that mentioned not seeing Voldemort's reaction when Hermione was in the second task. Well here is his reaction. Enjoy.**

* * *

 ** A Father's Fury.**

Voldemort paced the floor in his study, unable to concentrate on anything. To be honest he'd been like that all year, well since the Triwizard Tournament had started and Harry had found himself in the thick of the action. It killed him to know his grandson was in danger every day, and they had no idea who had placed him in peril.

Voldemort had tried to find out who could have placed Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire, but he was getting nowhere. If it hadn't been for Severus's firm belief that Dumbledore didn't know who had entered Harry into the tournament, the old headmaster would have been his prime suspect. He wouldn't have put it past the old coot to enter Harry into the tournament to prove to the wizarding world that he was the perfect hero to take down the dark. However, Severus had been adamant that Dumbledore wasn't involved, and Voldemort trusted his son's instincts.

That left the solution being that someone involved with the dark had been involved. For the last few months, Voldemort had gone through every Death Eater he thought would be rash enough to try and hurt Harry without his say so, but the only names he could think of, belonged to Death Eaters who were either dead or in Azkaban. He just couldn't believe that anyone who was in a position to put Harry's name into the Goblet would do such a thing. All his free Death Eater had proven themselves to be loyal over the last few months, and unless he was misjudging someone badly, he didn't think any of them would be reckless enough to try and cause trouble for Harry without his permission.

Running into walls while trying to find the perpetrator wasn't exactly helping Voldemort's mood. Especially on days like these, when he knew his grandson was in even more danger as the second task was taking place. Voldemort would have given anything to be at Hogwarts to keep an eye on Harry, but he knew it just wasn't possible. He would just have to rely on Severus and Lucius to keep him informed as to how things were going.

In actual fact, Lucius had promised to come and see him and let him know how Harry had fared in the second task. However, as the time crept on and there was no sign of his right hand man, Voldemort began to worry something had gone wrong. After all, despite all their best efforts to keep Harry safe, he was still participating in a dangerous tournament and even the best magic the family could muster wouldn't prevent him from being killed.

Trying not to think too negatively, he left his study and went looking for his wife. He found Beth in the living room, a book on her knee, but given the way she was staring into space, he suspected she was also thinking about Harry. Walking over to the sofa, he sat down next to his wife and took her hand in his.

"He'll be okay," He said gently. "Harry's stronger than we give him credit for. Just look at how effortlessly he's managed to keep up his pretence over the last few years."

"There's a world of difference between pretending to be someone you're not, and competing in a deadly tournament," Beth replied in a quiet voice.

"I know," Voldemort conceded. "But he's from good strong stock. He's more than capable as a wizard, and he does have help at hand if things get too bad."

"He'll be okay," Beth said with a firm nod.

Before Voldemort had a chance to reply, the floo network sounded from the floo room. Voldemort and Beth both jumped up and they were anxiously waiting when Lucius strode into the room, a serious look on his face.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Beth demanded, not liking the look on Lucius's face.

"Is Harry okay?" Voldemort asked.

"Harry's fine," Lucius reassured the worried pair. "He was brilliant again, and he won the task."

"That's a relief," Beth said as she sank back into her chair.

"Indeed it is," Voldemort said as he walked over to the bar in the corner. "Firewhisky, Lucius?"

"That would be great, thank you," Lucius replied with a nod. "Although there is something else you should know."

"Something serious?" Voldemort asked with a frown as he handed a tumbler of the amber liquid to his old friend and sat down next to his wife.

"I'm afraid so," Lucius said as he sat down opposite the couple. "I don't want you to worry, everything is fine now."

"Don't beat around the bush, Lucius," Voldemort snarled slightly. "What do you have to say?"

"Hermione was part of the second task," Lucius said bluntly.

"She was what?" Beth asked, paling at the thought of her daughter in danger.

"In what capacity was she involved?" Voldemort questioned in a tight voice that crackled with anger.

"The task was for the champions to retrieve a treasure from The Black Lake. Hermione was Harry's treasure," Lucius explained.

"Hermione was in the water?" Beth gasped, as beside her, Voldemort bristled with fury. "Was she okay?"

"She was unconscious until she broke the surface," Lucius said. "And she's is quite fine now."

"I assume there were other students in the lake," Voldemort said slowly.

"Each of the champions had a treasure, and they were all people," Lucius answered.

"And the Ministry were okay with putting children in the lake for a tournament?" Beth queried, her own anger beginning to rise now she was sure Hermione was safe.

"That's the thing, they didn't know. Dumbledore did it all himself," Lucius supplied.

"I am going to kill that old bastard," Voldemort hissed, getting to his feet. "This is it, this is the final straw. How dare he place my daughter in danger? I'm going to rip his insides out and feed them to the giant squid."

"As entertaining as that sounds, do you really think it's the wisest move?" Lucius questioned, not able to hide his amused smirk at the image of Dumbledore that Voldemort had placed in his head.

"I don't care about wise now, right now all I care about is vengeance," Voldemort snarled. "I will not stand back and let him endanger my daughter. Not to mention all the danger my grandson has been in all year. The man is a danger to every student in that school."

"I did point that out to Cornelius after the task," Lucius said, stopping Voldemort in his tracks as he headed for the door.

"You've spoken to Fudge?" Voldemort asked, turning back to Lucius.

"I demanded a meeting," Lucius said. "I wasn't just going to sit back and do nothing when he'd placed Hermione and others in danger. I made my mouth go after the task, and then I demanded we talk to the Minister. Fudge was not happy, and there's going to be a hearing at the end of the year to determine Dumbledore's fitness to carry on as headmaster. We can do whatever we want to him at that meeting, My Lord. All we need to do is be patient."

"Lucius is right," Beth said, walking over to her husband and placing a calming hand on his arm. "We've already got a plan in place for next year. Don't ruin it by rushing up to Hogwarts."

"Even if our little girl was in danger?" Voldemort asked quietly. "She could have died, Beth."

"Don't you think I know that," Beth replied with a shudder. "I want to hurt Dumbledore as much as you do, but we won't achieve anything by rushing in and causing a scene. Is this really how you want Hermione's cover broken? Because right now, we're in no position to protect her if she stays at Hogwarts, and you know how stubborn she is. She won't thank you for turning up and dragging her out of school."

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully as he slowly turned to Lucius. "And you're sure she's safe? She's unhurt?"

"She's fine," Lucius reassured him. "Possibly a bit shaken up, but physically she's fine. If you don't believe me, ask Severus. He's down at The Three Broomsticks having dinner."

"See, she must be okay," Beth said. "You know Severus wouldn't have left her if she was in any danger."

"I'll hold off on paying Dumbledore a visit," Voldemort conceded, taking a few deep breaths to bring his murderous intentions under control. "But that old man is going to rue the day he ever messed with my family. Before he goes, I'm going to make the old goat suffer."

"Something to look forward to," Lucius said with a smirk.

"Indeed," Voldemort said, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a half smirk of his own. "Thank you for keeping me informed, Lucius."

"It's my pleasure," Lucius said as he got to his feet. "And don't worry, I'll make sure you know exactly what is going on up at that castle."

"And that is why you're my most trusted Death Eater," Voldemort said with genuine affection. Lucius had long since passed the ranks of loyal follower, and he was now a good friend to The Dark Lord and his family.

"I aim to please," Lucius said with a respectful nod. "I'll be going, Narcissa will be waiting."

"Have a good evening," Voldemort said. "And thank you for acting so quickly with Fudge. Even though I still want to go up to Scotland and disembowel Dumbledore, it's good to know we hold his future in the palm of our hands. Just think, it's up to us if he even gets to be back at Hogwarts next year."

Saying his goodbyes, Lucius headed back out of the house, leaving Voldemort and Beth to talk over what had happened. Even with Lucius's reassurances that Hermione was fine, they were both still worried about their daughter. She'd been through a traumatic experience, and even if she was fine in the direct aftermath, they would just have to wait and see how she held up in the long term. Although, Hermione was tough, and if anyone could get through being held hostage underwater, it was their daughter. She was every inch their daughter, and Voldemort and Beth had no doubts that she could become the darkest witch the wizarding world had ever known.


	5. Rivals

**A/N - This piece is the first of potentially a few bits about Bella and her reactions to Beth and her relationship with Voldemort. This is the first meeting between the pair. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Rivals.**

Bellatrix took extra care with her appearance as she got ready to attend The Dark Lord's party. She knew she would never be as flawlessly put together as her perfect little sister, Narcissa, but she was still putting more effort into making sure she looked her best. She was out to impress, and in Bellatrix's humble opinion her skin tight deep red dress was going to be the sexiest outfit on display. She didn't think any other witch at the party would be able to beat her on sheer sexual magnetism. She would be the sexiest woman at the party, she was sure of it.

Bellatrix wanted to be the sexiest woman at the party as she was finally hoping to catch Voldemort's eye. She'd joined him because she genuinely believed in what he was fighting for, but she'd soon come to fall head over heels for the dark wizard. The fact she was married made no difference as her union with Rodolphus was an arranged marriage and there was certainly no love between them. Besides, her husband had his lovers so Bellatrix saw no problem with having a lover of her own.

Sadly for Bellatrix, Voldemort had never as much as looked in her direction. He valued her as one of his most loyal followers, but he didn't seem to see her as a woman. However, Bellatrix wasn't one to give up and she was still determined to get her man. In fact, given recent events she was even more determined to get Voldemort into her bed and prove to the dark wizard that she was the only witch for him.

A couple of weeks ago, Voldemort had travelled to North America with a couple of his Death Eaters. Bellatrix had been put out not to be included on the trip, despite volunteering, but she'd been even more put out when the two wizards accompanying Voldemort returned without The Dark Lord. Yaxley and Macnair had taken great pleasure in spreading the news that while they were in Canada they'd encountered a spirited young witch that had captured Voldemort's attention. Bellatrix had initially been dismissive of the rumours, but Voldemort had stayed away for another week and when he did return home, he'd brought the witch in question with him.

Bellatrix hadn't yet met her rival, as she hadn't joined the Death Eaters for some reason. However, the party she was getting ready to attend was being thrown by Voldemort to welcome his new friend to the country. Not that Bellatrix was going to be welcoming the Canadian, instead she was going to be issuing her with a warning to keep her hands off Voldemort. The Dark Lord was hers, and she wasn't going to lose him to some young Canadian witch who had no business even talking to Voldemort.

"Bella we're going to be late," Rodolphus barked, breaking into his wife's thoughts.

"Coming," Bellatrix replied, adding a bit more deep red gloss to her lips.

Smiling at her reflection in the mirror, Bellatrix turned and sashayed out of the bedroom. When she descended the stairs, she was pleased to get a reaction from Rodolphus as her husband openly stared at her with lust. Not that she was interested in arousing Rodolphus, but it was still good to know her outfit was just right. Voldemort couldn't fail to notice her.

"I guess we should be leaving," She purred, holding out her arm for her husband to take. Appearances had to be maintained, and a married couple always attended an event like this evenings together.

Rodolphus nodded and apparated them to the house where the party was being held. The house was a large country house owned by Voldemort, although it wasn't where he resided. He used the place for Death Eater meetings and social gatherings. Bellatrix left Rodolphus's side as soon as possible as she searched for The Dark Lord. She could see plenty of her fellow Death Eaters, and their spouses, but there was no sign of the host. Grabbing a glass of champagne off a table, Bellatrix continued to traverse the party.

Fifteen minutes after arriving, Bellatrix got her eye on her sister, Narcissa, and her husband, Lucius. As usual, Narcissa was flawlessly put together in a sweeping ice blue gown, and Lucius looked very handsome in black dress robes. Not really wanting to talk to her sister, Bellatrix turned to leave before Narcissa spotted her. However as she turned around, she suddenly realised that there was another witch with the couple. A witch she'd never seen before.

Turning back towards her sister, Bellatrix scrutinised the witch. She looked to be around Bellatrix's age, which would make her in her early twenties. She had smooth, clear skin and long brunette hair which fell around her shoulders in soft curls. She was dressed in a long, figure hugging emerald green dress, and Bellatrix had to admit she had a stunning figure. There was no doubt in her mind that the witch with Narcissa was the guest of honour, the witch who had stolen Voldemort's attention.

Adjusting her dress, so her breasts were nearly popping over the top, Bellatrix sashayed over to the trio. Annoyingly, Lucius didn't even give her an appreciative once over as he coolly greeted her. Narcissa's welcome was slightly warmer, and she offered her sister a genuine smile.

"Bellatrix, have you met Beth?" Narcissa asked.

"No, I haven't had the pleasure," Bellatrix replied, glancing over at the mystery witch.

"Allow me to make the introductions," Lucius said. "Bellatrix this is the lovely, Beth. Beth, this is Narcissa's sister, Bellatrix."

"It's very nice to meet you, Bellatrix," Beth said, offering her hand to the raven haired witch.

"You too," Bellatrix replied through clenched teeth as she briefly shook Beth's hand, before turning to Lucius. "Is The Dark Lord around?"

"He's dealing with a bit of business in his study," Beth answered.

"I'll just go and say hello," Bellatrix said, turning to leave.

Reaching out, Beth grabbed hold of Bellatrix's arm and stopped her in her tracks. "No."

"What do you think you're doing?" Bellatrix hissed, yanking herself out of Beth's strong grip.

"The party does not extend to upstairs," Beth explained calmly. "You are not to disturb The Dark Lord."

"And just who do you think you are ordering me around?" Bellatrix hissed, not at all impressed with the other witch's attitude.

"I'm not ordering, I'm merely informing you of the party protocol," Beth replied with a smirk. "It's rude to go where you're not invited."

"Since this is not your house, I do not have to listen to you," Bellatrix snarled. "I can go and see The Dark Lord and I'm sure he'll be pleased to see me."

"It's your funeral," Beth remarked with a shrug. "But I'm telling you, he won't be happy."

"We'll see about that," Bellatrix hissed, whirling around and stalking away from the newcomer.

Despite the house not being the one Voldemort currently lived in, Bellatrix knew it still had all the amenities of a lived-in house, including a fully functioning study. The study was upstairs, and Bellatrix was undisturbed as she climbed the stairs and found Voldemort's study. However, when she knocked and pushed open the door she didn't get the response she was hoping for.

"What are you doing here, Bellatrix?" Voldemort snapped, turning away from the book he was studying.

"I haven't seen you in weeks, I wanted to say hello," Bellatrix pouted.

"I'll be down shortly, Bellatrix," Voldemort replied, gesturing to the door. "Now leave."

With a pout, Bellatrix turned and left The Dark Lord's study. Slowly she returned to the party, and wasn't impressed to find Beth waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"That was quick," Beth smirked.

"I only wanted to say hello," Bellatrix said, sniffing imperiously.

"Let's guess, he told you to leave," Beth laughed, a low throaty laugh which Bellatrix knew would sound sexy to a man.

"He did not," Bellatrix replied, not wanting to let Beth know that she'd been right.

"I did warn you, Bellatrix," Beth said with another laugh. "But I guess some people aren't capable of taking friendly advice."

Not waiting for Bellatrix to respond, Beth slipped into the crowds. Bellatrix watched Beth in annoyance as she laughed and chatted to the Death Eaters and their partners as though she'd been part of their circle forever. Bellatrix had never slipped into the group as easily as the wives considered her a threat as a strong woman and the other Death Eaters considered her less than them because of her sex. Yet Beth walked among the group like the queen bee and it bugged Bellatrix to no end.

Grabbing another drink, Bellatrix hovered around the stairs so she would see when Voldemort finally put in an appearance. When Voldemort did finally began to descend the stairs, Bellatrix was annoyed when Beth suddenly appeared and walked up a few steps to meet The Dark Lord. Voldemort whispered something to her, before taking hold of her arm and leading her into the party. The pair passed Bellatrix without a second glance as they entered the festivities.

Bellatrix could see that as long as Beth was at his side, Voldemort wouldn't pay any attention to her, so she stayed out of the way and watched. Unfortunately, Voldemort never strayed far from Beth's side, and Bellatrix was fuming to see that he seemed smitten. She'd never seen The Dark Lord so enamoured with anyone before, and she couldn't help but wonder what Beth had that she didn't. Why was he interested in her, when she'd made herself so readily available?

"She's very beautiful, isn't she?" A soft voice said from behind Bellatrix.

"Who?" Bellatrix questioned, not turning around as she recognised her sister's voice.

"Beth," Narcissa replied with a slight chuckle.

"I suppose she's attractive enough, if you like plain and boring," Bellatrix sniffed haughtily.

"Beth is not plain and boring, she's lovely," Narcissa replied. "The Dark Lord certainly seems to think so."

"He'll tire of her," Bellatrix predicted. "She's not woman enough to handle The Dark Lord."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Narcissa replied. "If you want my advice Bellatrix, I'd back off if I were you. The Dark Lord is clearly interested in Beth, and from what I hear she's not a witch to mess with."

"Nor am I," Bellatrix countered. "I won't give up, Cissa. The Dark Lord will be mine. I will not let Beth stand in my way. I will make him mine. You just watch me."

Narcissa shook her head in resignation as her stubborn sister walked off to get another drink. She thought Bellatrix had met her match in Beth. Narcissa would put money on The Dark Lord and Beth ending up together, while her sister was left on the side-lines. She just hoped that Bellatrix took the rejection with good grace, and didn't make a fool of herself. She stood no chance with Voldemort, and the quicker she accepted it the better it would be for everyone.


	6. Battle Scars

**A/N - This piece is about Narcissa, and fits in sixth year after the attack on Grimmauld Place and her hospital stay.**

* * *

 **Battle Scars.**

Narcissa breathed a huge sigh of relief as she alighted the fire and emerged into her own house. Her brief stint in hospital had been long enough, and she was just glad to be home. She just wished she could relax, but that would be impossible to do as long as Hermione was still in hospital. Narcissa had insisted on a quick visit to Hermione's room before she'd left the hospital, and she was pleased to find that Draco's girlfriend was in good spirits, even if it did look as though her stay in hospital would be significantly longer than Narcissa's.

"Let's get you settled in," Lucius announced, emerging from the fire behind Narcissa, her overnight bag in his hands.

"You don't need to fuss, Lucius," Narcissa said.

"You're my wife and you've been ill, it's my job to fuss," Lucius responded with a loving smile that was strictly for her eyes only.

"Will Draco be coming to see me tonight?" Narcissa asked as Lucius wrapped a strong arm around her waist and led her from the room.

"He'll be here in the morning," Lucius answered. "He wanted to come and see you tonight, but I persuaded him to let you settle in first."

"And tomorrow you'll be back at work," Narcissa checked.

"I was thinking about that, and I might ask Severus for more time off," Lucius said. "I really should be here for you."

Coming to a standstill at the bottom of the stairs, Narcissa shook her head at her husband. "No, you're going to work tomorrow. You can come and check on me in-between lessons and at break times, but you need to get back. You can't let Severus down, not when Beth will be taking time off to look after Hermione. Besides, you're loving teaching."

"I love you more," Lucius whispered, his grey eyes swimming with concern for his wife. "I nearly lost you, Cissa. I need to be there for you."

"And you will be," Narcissa said, gently cupping her husband's face in her hands. "But I don't need you hovering over me twenty four hours a day. The healers wouldn't have discharged me if there was any danger. All I need is rest and I'll be good as new."

"You're not going to let me win this argument, are you?" Lucius sighed.

"When do you ever win an argument, Lucius?" Narcissa chuckled lightly as she turned and began to slowly climb the stairs.

Quickly catching up with his wife, Lucius helped her up the stairs and into their master bedroom. Dropping her bag to the floor he summoned one of the house elves to unpack it and bring Narcissa a nice cup of tea.

"You should go and see Severus and let him know you'll be back tomorrow," Narcissa said.

"You want me to leave you already?" Lucius asked in disbelief.

"You'll only be an hour or so," Narcissa replied. "I can have a bath while the elves make dinner and when you come back we can eat and then spend the rest of the night together."

"Okay, I'll not be long," Lucius said, knowing it was pointless to argue with his wife once she'd made her mind up. Besides, the sooner he could speak to Severus the quicker he could get back to Narcissa.

"Take your time," Narcissa said as her husband wrapped her gently in his arms and gave her a soft kiss.

"If you need anything, just call one of the elves to come and get me," Lucius insisted. "I'll be back in an instant."

"I'm sure you will be," Narcissa said with a slight smile. "Now go."

Once her husband had gone, Narcissa sent the elves to sort dinner while she wandered into the bathroom. Moving over to the large floor-length mirror that stood against the back wall, Narcissa took in her appearance. Her long blonde hair was hanging around her face, and it didn't look as glossy as normal. Her hair had been washed in the hospital, but she hadn't had any of her expensive hair products which helped keep her hair smooth and glossy. Her skin was also paler than normal and didn't look quite as flawless as normal, but again Narcissa had been without her creams that she'd used since she was a young witch.

Narcissa wasn't worried about her hair and skin, as she knew in a few days they would be back to normal, what she was worried about was the scarring the healers had warned her would be with her for life. Even the best potions would only be able to minimise the scars, nothing would remove them completely.

"Let's see how bad the damage is," Narcissa whispered to herself.

With shaking fingers she unzipped her dress and slid it down her body, leaving her in just her underwear and the bandage that covered her entire left arm. Looking into the mirror, Narcissa felt the tears pool in her eyes as she took in the nasty red scars which ran all down her left side. Gingerly touching the scars, she traced one particularly nasty one from just under her armpit to halfway across her stomach. In the harsh light of the bathroom the scars were worse than Narcissa had thought back in the hospital, but she knew her shoulder and arm were much worse.

Taking a deep breath, Narcissa slowly began to remove the bandages. The healers had offered to do it for her at the hospital, but Narcissa had been adamant she wanted to do it herself. She'd also wanted to do it when she was alone as she knew the scarring was bad and she wanted to get used to it before anyone else, even Lucius, saw her.

Narcissa watched with wide eyes as the white bandages began to come away from her skin, revealing a horrifying mass of red scars. The scarring was so much more severe than Narcissa had been expecting and tears began running down her face as she removed the last of her bandages. Her entire shoulder and arm were covered in vivid red scarring, and it was the most ugly sight Narcissa had ever seen.

Running her hand down her arm, Narcissa's tears increased at the feeling of her scars. Her silky smooth skin had gone and was replaced by harsh, marred skin. Narcissa knew even the best potions and beauty lotions would only be able to do so much to limit the damage. Try as she might, she would never get her lovely unblemished skin back again.

Turning away from the mirror, Narcissa sunk to the floor as the reality of what had happened to her hit home. Obviously she was grateful to be alive, but she couldn't just pretend the physical changes weren't painful for her to cope with. She'd spent her entire life nourishing her looks, and her confidence was often boosted by how good she looked. Now she would forever have to hide her arm, unless she was ready to deal with people staring and gossiping about her.

Although she dreaded to think about Lucius's reaction to her scars. Narcissa knew her husband would put on a brave face and claim that her scars didn't matter, but Narcissa couldn't believe that. She couldn't believe that Lucius wouldn't be bothered by her scars. He'd always been very physically attracted to her, but now she was no longer perfect. Would he still want her, now she was scarred for life?

Slowly pulling herself together, Narcissa got to her feet and turning the taps on in the large sunken tub, she poured an entire bottle of her favourite bubble bath into the running water. Slipping off her underwear, she threw all her clothes into the laundry basket before sinking into the tub. The warm water helped ease her aching body, but it did nothing for the thoughts running around in Narcissa's head.

Half an hour later, Narcissa emerged from the bath once she'd washed her hair. Wrapping herself in one of the large ice blue towels, she emerged from the bathroom and stopped in her tracks when she found Lucius sitting on the bed. Glancing down at her left arm, she found her scars were fully visible to her husband.

"You're back earlier than I thought," She muttered, searching for her large fluffy dressing gown and finding no sign of it.

"I didn't need to stay long, I just had to tell Severus I was back at work tomorrow," Lucius replied. "What are you looking for Cissa?"

"Nothing," Narcissa replied, a frown ghosting over her face when she finally spotted her dressing gown on the bed behind her husband. It actually looked as though the dressing gown was partly under the covers, although Narcissa wasn't sure why it wasn't hanging up.

"It's not what it looks like," Lucius said, spotting where Narcissa was looking and blushing slightly.

"And what does it look like?" Narcissa asked.

"Like I was sleeping with your dressing gown because it reminded me of you," Lucius answered sheepishly.

"You did that?" Narcissa questioned, a small smile breaking out over her face.

"Maybe," Lucius said with a shrug. "But I don't need to anymore, because I've got the real thing back."

"I'm not quite the same though," Narcissa said quietly.

"You mean your arm?" Lucius questioned rising to his feet. He couldn't miss his wife's left side, but even the nasty scarring didn't stop her from being the most attractive witch he'd ever laid eyes on.

"It won't get better Lucius," Narcissa said as husband took hold of her hands. "It might fade, but I'll never be the same again."

"And?" Lucius questioned, raising Narcissa's hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "I don't care about the scars, Cissa. You're beautiful, scars and all."

"These scars aren't beautiful," Narcissa replied sadly.

"They are, because they represent how strong you are," Lucius said. "The scars are proof that you're a survivor. Weaker witches would have died from their injuries, but not you. You're a fighter, Cissa, and your scars are merely proof of how much you fight. They don't make me love you any less. I don't love you because of your flawless skin, I love you because you're the most amazing witch I've ever met."

"You know Lucius, you can be very romantic when you want to be," Narcissa said with a soft chuckle. She wasn't entirely sure her scars wouldn't affect her relationship with her husband, but she loved him for trying to make her feel better.

"Don't tell anyone, I've got an image to maintain," Lucius whispered with a wicked grin.

"Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation," Narcissa said with a smile.

"No, we wouldn't want that," Lucius agreed. "But in private I'll show you my romantic side if you stop worrying about your scars. You're beautiful, Narcissa. Never doubt that."

"I'll try," Narcissa said with a small smile. "I really should get dressed now."

"Don't bother on my account," Lucius said with a wicked smirk.

"I am not eating dinner naked," Narcissa said in indignation. "Go and check the elves have everything in hand, while I get dressed."

Lucius nodded, and giving his wife a tender kiss, he headed off to do as Narcissa wanted. Left alone, Narcissa wandered into her large walk-in wardrobe and searched around for a long sleeved dress. Finding none that she liked, she turned to her jumpers and pulled a soft, light blue cashmere sweater from the shelf and teemed it with a long dark blue skirt. Satisfied her scars were undercover, she headed down to have dinner with Lucius.

It would take time to accept her new, less than perfect body, but she was determined she would get over what happened to her. After all, it all could have been so much worse. She was lucky to be alive, and she was going to make the most of every day.

* * *

 **A/N 2 - I just want to share some good news with my wonderful readers. This morning I had a PM to inform me that I'd been nominated for the 'Something Wicked This Way Comes' Fall 2016 Dramione Fanfiction Awards, and two of my stories have made it to the finals.**

 **Best Crime/Mystery Fic for Femme Fatale.**

 **Best Potion/Spell Accident Fic for Future Adventures.**

 **I was really shocked and incredibly flattered by the news, and I want to thank my readers for their support. If anyone wants to vote for me (voting closes on the 28th October), I'd be thrilled. But even to be nominated is such an honour, and it really does make it all worth it (especially this year when things have been difficult at times thanks to some unsavoury people).**

 **If you want to vote, use this link just remove the *.**

 **htt*ps:/*goo.*gl/for*ms/Rfr*1KF2lv*J2g9fY*63**


	7. Passion

**Passion.**

Voldemort watched Beth as she stood in the middle of a lake in the Scottish countryside, commanding the elements, unable to believe she'd been in his life for nearly a year. It was coming up to a year since she'd accompanied him back from Canada, and in that time she'd proved herself thirsty for knowledge. She'd also proven herself very capable in the dark arts, and Voldemort had even learnt a thing of two at her hands.

In the year since Beth had been in his life, Voldemort had felt lighter and more at ease than he ever had before. Not that anything had happened between them, as she kept refusing his advances. Voldemort knew she was interested in him, he'd seen the flickers of attraction in her deep brown eyes, but she refused to give in to her desire for him. However, Voldemort would not be beaten, and he was determined that the gorgeous, feisty witch would one day be his.

"Very good," Voldemort called, watching as Beth made the water from the lake swirl around her.

"I think so," Beth said, turning around and making the water flow towards Voldemort.

Voldemort didn't flinch as the wall of water headed his way, and as he expected, Beth stopped it before it engulfed him. As he stepped backwards, Voldemort watched as Beth let the water drop back into the lake. Since she was still in the lake, she ended up knee deep in water, but she was unfazed as she waded back to the shore and dried herself off.

"You're good," Voldemort said. "Your control of the elements is exceptional."

"It's fun to play," Beth replied with a cheeky grin. Controlling the elements wasn't dark magic, but it could certainly help in a fight.

"I wouldn't know, someone is playing hard to get," Voldemort said, moving closer to Beth and staring into her eyes.

"I'm not playing," Beth replied.

"Aren't you?" Voldemort questioned. "You want me, I know you do. Yet you resist."

"Maybe I'm making things easier for you," Beth said. "We both know there's certain people who would create problems if anything happened between us."

"You mean Bella?" Voldemort snorted, surprised that Beth would let the other witch bother her.

Since the moment Beth arrived in England, Bellatrix had taken against her. Beth hadn't joined the Death Eaters, but she had attended a few meetings, and things had been tense between her and Bellatrix. Voldemort knew the source of Bellatrix's hatred came from the fact that he was interested in Beth, and he'd never given her a second thought. However, since Bellatrix actually was a Death Eater, he knew she wouldn't dare cause any problems with Beth.

"We both know she hates me," Beth said with a shrug. Personally she wasn't bothered by Bellatrix, or her hostile attitude, but she didn't want the headstrong witch to cause problems for Voldemort.

"And you're bothered by that?" Voldemort questioned.

"No, but you brought me over here to help teach me and unlock my potential, not cause rifts in your followers," Beth replied.

"Leave my Death Eaters to me," Voldemort ordered. "This isn't anything to do with them. The question is, do you want me Beth?"

"You know the answer to that," Beth said, smiling up at Voldemort. "I want you Tom, I always have."

Voldemort waited for the shudder of revulsion to hit him as Beth used his given name. He'd always hated it as it reminded him of his deadbeat muggle father, but he didn't feel the same revulsion when it came from Beth's lips. It made him feel normal, as though he was capable of having a relationship like other people. For years, the darkness had controlled his life, but now Beth was bringing the light back into it.

"Maybe we should do something about it," Voldemort said, gently pulling Beth into his arms.

"I'll have a drink with you, but I can't promise anything else," Beth said, playing coy.

"I guess a drink will do for a start," Voldemort replied with a smirk.

With a pop, he apparated them back to the small house he'd owned for several years. Only a select few of his Death Eaters even knew the house existed, and although Beth was a regular visitor, she'd refused to move in with him. Instead, she'd let him set her up with a small flat, and she just visited him when it was time for their lessons.

"Maybe it's time you told me more about yourself," Voldemort said, handing Beth a glass of wine as she settled down on the sofa and curled her feet up under herself.

"I will if you will," Beth replied.

"You know everything," Voldemort said with a chuckle. "I'm an open book."

"I know everything about Lord Voldemort," Beth retorted. "I want to know about Tom. What turned you into such a dark wizard?"

"I don't talk about my past," Voldemort said darkly.

"I'm not talking about mine, unless I get something in return," Beth said. "It's only fair."

"Fine," Voldemort huffed. He already knew how stubborn Beth could be, and he knew if he wanted something out of her, he would have to give a bit of himself in the process. "My father was a muggle and my mother was a witch descended from one of the greatest wizards in history."

"And?" Beth pressed when Voldemort fell silent.

"And my mother tricked my father into marrying her. She used a love potion, and she was foolish enough to think he truly loved her, so she stopped dosing him with it and told him she was pregnant," Voldemort reluctantly revealed.

"I take it he didn't take it well," Beth remarked.

"No, he did not," Voldemort replied with a bitter laugh. "He walked away from her, and wanted nothing to do with me. My mother was weak and she couldn't cope with the rejection. She was in a bad way and ended up in the muggle world, where she gave birth to me in a stinking orphanage. She lived just long enough to give me the same name as my good-for-nothing father."

"Nasty," Beth said softly.

"I coped," Voldemort replied with a shrug.

"Coping isn't the same as really living though, is it?" Beth questioned. "It must have affected your outlook on life."

"It just showed me that no-one can be trusted," Voldemort snorted. "Even my own mother didn't love me enough to stick around. She'd lost her precious love, and I wasn't enough for her. And as for my so called father, the less said about him the better."

"Is he still around?" Beth asked.

"He's gone."

"At your hands?"

"If I say yes, will you think less of me?"

Beth smirked as she shook her head. "It's too late for that. I doubt anything you can say will change how I see you."

"And how is that?" Voldemort asked, skirting closer to Beth. "Just how do you see me?"

"As a powerful, ruthless wizard," Beth answered. "You're tough and quite intimidating, but there's a vulnerability inside you."

"Vulnerability?" Voldemort questioned, his face contorting in disgust at the very idea.

"I doubt anyone else can see it, you hide it very well," Beth said. "Or maybe you only let me see it."

"Maybe you can just see parts of me I keep well hidden," Voldemort said, admitting to himself that he had let his guard down with Beth. After all, he'd never spoken about his parents to anyone else.

"Maybe," Beth agreed, smiling at Voldemort. "I like it. I like that I can see parts of you no-one else can see."

"I think I might like it too," Voldemort conceded. "But now it's time to see bits of you no-one else has seen. Tell me about yourself, Beth. How did you end up living under the radar, hiding from the Aurors?"

"I guess my life story actually begins before I was born," Beth answered, topping up her wine and settling back. "My mother was a rebel, and she got involved with an unsuitable wizard. My grandparents didn't approve and they threatened to cut my mother off. My mother was stubborn though, and she refused to give up her lover."

"So your grandparents cut her off?" Voldemort asked, wondering if the Grangers were her mother's family or her father's.

"They didn't get a chance before she found out she was pregnant with me," Beth replied. "Anyway, her boyfriend proved himself to be as unreliable as my grandparents had always claimed and he took off when my mother told him about her pregnancy. I never met him, and he's never once come looking for me."

"So you grew up with a single mother," Voldemort summarised.

"Not for long," Beth said with a shrug. "My grandparents supported my mother, and tried to get her to turn her life around, but she was still wild. Even once I was born, she would leave me with my grandparents and go off with her friends. One time when I was just eighteen months she went off and never returned. Six months later, my grandparents were informed that she'd been killed."

"So your grandparents raised you."

"They did," Beth replied with a fond smile. "But when I was twelve, my grandmother got sick and she died. My grandfather tried his best, but he couldn't cope and I ended up a bit wild. I got involved in dark arts, and despite dabbling, my grandfather never really had the aptitude for the darkest of magic."

"Hence his accident," Voldemort said. "Where were you when that happened?"

"I was off sulking," Beth admitted with a sad smile. "We'd had a row. I wanted to leave and see the world, and my grandfather didn't want me to go. Deep down, I don't think I wanted to leave him, so I went to visit a friend to cool off before something was said that couldn't be taken back. When I returned, the accident had already happened and my grandfather was gone. He was my life, and he died mad at me. It kills me that the last words I said to him were words of anger."

"You can't change the past, Beth," Voldemort said softly, wrapping his arm around Beth's shoulders.

"I know," Beth said. "I just want him to be proud of me."

"Yet you came back with me, a dark wizard?" Voldemort questioned with a confused frown.

"Don't be fooled, my grandfather might not have had an aptitude for dark arts, but he certainly appreciated them," Beth said. "There would be nothing that would make him prouder than for me to become a dark witch. He wanted me to excel and achieve my potential."

"And you will," Voldemort said quietly. "You will achieve your dreams, Beth. I'll make sure of that."

"I bet you will," Beth replied with a smirk, running her hand over Voldemort's thigh.

As if someone had flicked a switch, the atmosphere turned from serious to sizzling hot. Beth's hand trailed higher up Voldemort's thigh, while he tangled his hand in Beth's thick chocolate curls. Ever so slowly their lips inched towards each other and when they touched, they both felt the spark. After nearly a year's flirtation it didn't take much to break them, and one kiss was all it took to light the simmering passion.

"Bedroom," Beth hissed in between frantic kisses.

"Later," Voldemort returned shortly as he tore Beth's skin tight black vest top off her.

Beth's protests failed to materialise as Voldemort's mouth latched onto her breasts and she was transported into a world of passion. Hurriedly shedding the rest of their clothing, Voldemort and Beth gave into their passion on the sofa. No sooner had they exhausted their burning passion for each other, than the couple moved into Voldemort's bedroom where they spent the rest of the night in each other's arms.


	8. A Growing Family

**A/N - This collection piece is another Beth and Voldemort centric one. Sorry updates haven't been as recent, but as well as working on this collection I'm working on other stories, and some of the pieces I've finished for this collection can't be published before the end of year 7 - unless people want some serious spoilers. But for now, I hope people enjoy this piece.**

* * *

 **A Growing Family.**

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Beth sat with a spell book open on her lap, her eyes travelling over a spell she'd never cast before - a spell to detect pregnancy. She and her husband had never talked about having children, and until she started to suspect she was pregnant, Beth had never thought about becoming a mother. However, she'd been dwelling over the fact she could be pregnant for the last couple of days, and she was surprised to find that she rather liked the idea of having a child. She just didn't know what Voldemort would think if she was pregnant.

It was only a few years ago that Severus had walked into their life, and dropped the bombshell that Voldemort was his father. The pair had since formed a solid bond, and Beth knew her husband loved his son, but it was a very different thing to have another child. Voldemort had never raised Severus, whereas with this child he would be around from the beginning. Beth just didn't know if Voldemort wanted another child, not when his son was fully grown.

Then there was the war to consider. In all their discussions of the future, the couple had never mentioned starting a family. All their talk about the future revolved around Voldemort gaining full control of the wizarding world and building the society he envisioned. Beth doubted a child would play a part in that particular vision of the future, and it was a future she wanted as much as her husband. Beth's interests may have originally been more in the dark arts area, but being with Voldemort had unleashed her inner thirst for power. Like her husband, she delighted in the thought of the dark having control of the wizarding world and taking it back to what it should be like.

"Wondering isn't going to get us anywhere," Beth muttered, shaking her head to get rid of her thoughts.

She could spend all day worrying about the future and Voldemort's reaction, but all of it was useless until she knew if she was pregnant or not. Until she knew she was expecting a baby, it was pointless to sit and worry about the future. The first thing she needed to do was discover if she was indeed pregnant.

Running over the spell again to check she knew what she was doing, Beth reached for her wand. Clasping the wooden stick in her hands, Beth took a deep breath and cast the simple spell. The spell created a white glow around Beth and ever so slowly the glow began to deepen into a golden yellow. According to the book, the glow would remain white if no child was present, whereas it would turn gold if there was a child in residence.

"I knew it," Beth whispered, placing her left hand over her flat stomach as she removed the glow with the wand still in her right hand.

Now she knew for sure she was pregnant, her thoughts once again turned back to her husband and his reaction to her news. Beth had no idea how Voldemort was going to react, and it unnerved her. On most occasions she could predict how her husband would react to any given situation, but this was something she just couldn't predict. Just because he'd welcomed Severus with open arms, didn't mean he would welcome a baby.

Deciding the best thing to do was to bite the bullet, Beth left the bedroom and headed down to her husband's study, where Voldemort had been planning on spending the morning working. Voldemort was indeed in his study, and he was settled at his desk, parchment spread about before him as he planned a new attack on the Order of the Phoenix. Beth watched him work for a couple of minutes, before he sensed her eyes on him and looked up.

"Beth," he greeted, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Tom," Beth replied with a nervous nod.

"Is everything okay?" Voldemort asked, pushing aside his work and focusing on his clearly nervous wife.

"I don't know," Beth admitted. "I've got some news."

"You're worrying me," Voldemort said, getting up and taking hold of his wife's hand. "Should I be worried?"

"Let's see." Taking a deep breath, Beth led her husband over to the sofa in the corner of the room and pulled him down beside her.

"Beth," Voldemort prodded when his wife remained silent.

"I'm pregnant," Beth blurted, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Pregnant," Voldemort repeated in a shocked voice.

"Yes," Beth whispered, her eyes never leaving her husband. Voldemort was clearly shocked, but she had no idea if he was appalled at the news or had merely been taken by surprise and didn't know how to react. "I know this is a bit of a shock, and it's not something we've ever talked about."

"No it's not," Voldemort agreed. In fact children had never even entered his head until Severus turned up and revealed he was his son.

"You're not happy, are you?" Beth asked with a sigh.

"I'm just shocked," Voldemort reassured his wife, taking hold of her hands in his. "I'm sure you are as well."

"I am," Beth replied. "But I'm also pretty excited. I never thought about being a mother before, but now I'm pregnant, I know that I want this child."

"As do I," Voldemort said, a slow smile creeping onto his face. "We're having a baby, Beth. I couldn't be happier."

"Really?" Beth checked, a smile creeping onto her own face. "This will be very different from your experiences with Severus. You'll be a father in an entirely different way."

"I do realise that, Beth," Voldemort chuckled. "I'm still shocked by the news, but its good news. We're going to start our own family and I couldn't be happier."

"I hope Severus is okay with it," Beth remarked. She was fond of her step-son, and she hoped her news didn't ruin the family bond they were building.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Voldemort replied. "He'll understand that we're not trying to replace him. He's my son, Beth, and I love him. I wish I'd known him as he was growing up, but this baby isn't a way of recapturing the past. This baby doesn't make up for me missing out on Severus growing up, and he'll understand that. Severus will always be my son, and he will always be my first born."

"I hope you're right, because I want him to be involved," Beth said. "I'm going to give him a little brother or sister, and I want him to be happy for us."

"And he will be," Voldemort reassured her. "But for now, let's focus on our happiness. You've just told me I'm about to become a father again, so I think we should celebrate."

"How?" Beth asked with a laugh as her husband pulled her to her feet.

"Pack a bag," Voldemort ordered. "I'm taking you away for the weekend. We're going to celebrate our news in style."

"It sounds good to me," Beth replied, grinning at her husband as she turned and headed for the door.

"Beth," Voldemort called, pausing his wife in the doorway. "I love you," he whispered when she turned around.

"Love you too," Beth returned, blowing her husband a kiss.

Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Beth flew back up to the bedroom to pack. She knew Voldemort was still shocked by her news, but his initial reaction was positive. Hopefully by the end of the weekend they would both have fully accepted that they were about to have a baby. Their entire world was about to change, and Beth couldn't wait for what was to come. She couldn't wait to meet the child she and her husband had created, and to see just what life had in store for their dark family.


	9. Big Brother

**A/N - Several people requested a piece where Severus discovered Beth's pregnancy and his reaction to gaining a little sister - so here it is. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Big Brother.**

Severus prepared to head to his father's house, wondering just what he wanted to talk to him about. Severus was just getting to know Voldemort and getting used to him being his father, so he was slightly worried by the summons he'd received. Voldemort had seemed to take the news of Severus being his son well, and he'd welcomed him into his life, but Severus still worried in case his father suddenly decided that he didn't want a grown-up son. After all, he did have a lovely young wife so it would be easy enough for them to start a family from scratch.

Shaking his head to dispel the negative thoughts, Severus headed off to his father's house. When he arrived at the house, one of his father's house elves showed him into the front room. Dismissing the elf, Severus poured himself a generous glass of firewhisky and wandered over to the window to wait for his father.

Severus had barely managed a sip of his firewhisky when his father entered the room with Beth at his side. Both Voldemort and Beth greeted him warmly, and Severus felt his nerves dispensing. Whatever his father wanted, it didn't look as though it was going to be bad news. In fact his father and step-mother were practically glowing.

"Sit down, Severus," Voldemort said as he poured himself a glass of firewhisky and a glass of mineral water for Beth.

"Is something wrong?" Severus asked as he took a seat opposite the couple, who had settled on the large sofa together.

"On the contrary, we've got good news," Voldemort said, taking hold of his wife's hand and giving it a squeeze. "Beth's pregnant."

Severus felt his heart skip nervously at the announcement. He'd just been thinking about how easy it would be for his father to start a new family with his wife, and here it was happening. As worried as he was about what it would mean for him, he could see that both Voldemort and Beth were delighted with the news, and he couldn't help but be happy for them.

"Congratulations," he managed, smiling weakly at the happy couple.

"You don't seem too happy with the news," Voldemort noted, scrutinising his son.

"I'm happy for you both, really I am," Severus insisted.

"But?" Beth prodded.

"But what about me?" Severus blurted, unable to stop himself even though he knew how selfish and childish he sounded.

"This won't change anything between us, Severus," Voldemort said firmly. "You're my son, and I love you. I won't deny that things will be different with this child, but it doesn't affect my feelings for you. You will always be my eldest child, and you will always have a place in my heart."

"You're a part of this family, Severus," Beth said, moving to reach out to her step-son. "We want you to be involved. You're going to be a big brother to this little one, and I'm sure they're going to love you as much as your father and I do. We're not replacing you, Severus."

"I guess I was just a bit worried that you might view this as a new start as a family," Severus admitted.

"It is a new start," Voldemort said. "But you're included in the new start, Severus. You're part of this family, never forget that."

"I won't," Severus vowed, feeling foolish for thinking he was being pushed out. "And I really am happy for you both."

"I think we should celebrate as a family," Beth said as she rose to her feet. "You are staying for dinner, aren't you Severus?"

"I'd love to," Severus said, smiling at his step-mother as she headed off to sort out dinner with the house elves.

"Are you sure you're really happy for us?" Voldemort checked once Beth was gone. "I know this must be a shock for you, it certainly was for me."

"It is a shock, but I am happy for you," Severus replied. "I never thought I would see the day I would have a sibling."

"I never thought I would see the day when I had children, yet here I am expecting my second," Voldemort chuckled. "My life has changed beyond recognition over the last few years. First I met Beth, then you came into my life, and now we're going to add to the family."

"It's quite a dark empire we're building here," Severus remarked.

"It is," Voldemort agreed with a nod. "And who knows, maybe one day you'll get married and add to the family."

"I'm not so sure that will happen," Severus replied with a sigh, his mind turning to Lily and how she'd married his arch enemy, James Potter. He couldn't see himself loving anyone else but Lily, and it was clear that he was never going to be with her the way he desired.

"Don't be so sure," Voldemort said. He knew about Severus's feelings for Lily, but he hated to think his son was giving up on love at such a young age. "Anything can happen. Just look at Beth and I, I certainly didn't see that coming. Never give up hope, Severus. I believe that one day you'll have a wife and children you love, just like I have."

"It would be nice to think so," Severus replied with a small sigh. It was a nice idea, but at the moment he really couldn't see anything like that in his future.

Sensing his son's melancholy was growing, Voldemort turned the subject back to the upcoming arrival and by the time Beth re-joined them, the two wizards were discussing the future and what could happen once Voldemort had two children to take over his dark empire. The rest of the evening passed in pleasant conversation, and it wasn't until he was back home that Severus really got a chance to sit down and think about the fact he was about to get a sibling. His life was about to change, and he had no idea how he would react to having a little brother or sister to take care of.

For the remainder of Beth's pregnancy, Severus worried about his ability as a big brother. As promised, Beth and Voldemort had included him in almost everything and he'd never felt more like part of the family. As such he was at the hospital when Beth gave birth to a baby girl, and he was the very first person to visit with his little sister.

"Don't look so scared, Severus, she doesn't bite," Beth chuckled as Severus warily approached the hospital bed his stepmother was lying in, cradling her daughter in her arms.

"Biting or not, she's still scary," Severus replied. "I have no idea what to do with babies."

"Join the club," Voldemort said to his son. "This is all new to me too."

"You're her father, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it easily enough," Severus said.

"And you're her big brother, so you'll also get the hang of it," Beth said firmly. "Now come here and say hello to your little sister."

"Does she have a name?" Severus asked, inching forward and gazing down at the tiny bundle in Beth's arms. He knew Voldemort and Beth had been talking about names before the birth, but as far as he knew they hadn't made a decision on a name before Beth had gone into labour.

"Not yet," Beth replied with a sigh. "Nothing seems to suit her. We want the perfect name, and so far nothing fits. So until we find the perfect name, she's name free."

"I'm sure it'll come in time," Severus said reassuringly.

"I'm sure it will," Beth agreed. "Do you want to hold her?"

"I can't do that, I might drop her," Severus replied in horror.

"Nonsense, you won't drop her, she's your little sister," Beth tutted.

Before Severus could protest further, or back away from Beth's bedside, his stepmother had transferred his sister into his arms. Beth settled the baby in Severus arms and made sure he was supporting her head before sitting back in bed and beaming widely at the pair.

"Perfect," she said.

"I quite agree," Voldemort said, perching himself next to his wife and smiling at his son and new-born daughter.

Still nervous that he would mess up, Severus looked down at the infant in his arms. As he watched his sister her small eyes fluttered open and he found himself staring into the warmest brown eyes he'd ever seen. All at once he wasn't worried about dropping her as he knew he would give the last breath in his body to protect her from harm. She was his baby sister and he already loved her more than he ever thought possible. There and then he silently vowed that he would never let anything bad happen to her, and he would always be there to love and support her as she grew up.


	10. Reports

**A/N- This is one of the pieces that is set after the end of seventh year, and it deals with a few questions a couple of people asked about turning Ginny into a werewolf. I also just want to remind people that there is no update schedule with this collection series, or any of my other collection series. I post collection pieces at random, and can't schedule their updates as I can go weeks without writing a collection piece and then write several in one week. However, they will all continue to be updated as frequently as is possible. Enjoy this piece, and remember to keep letting me know what else you want to see explored in this series.**

* * *

 **Reports.**

Hermione carefully got out of bed, taking care not to wake Draco. The previous evening had been a full moon and she knew that if given the chance Draco would likely sleep until at least midday as it was a weekend. Although Hermione was half tempted to remain in bed with Draco, as she'd joined Draco for the first part of the evening in her animagus form of a sleek brown wolf, and then after leaving him to grab a few hours' sleep she was woken up at sunrise when Draco returned to the house, his usual energetic self. After a couple of hours of sex the couple had fallen asleep, and now it was time for Hermione to get up.

By the time Hermione had showered and dressed, Draco had spread himself over the large king size bed they shared and Hermione took a moment to just watch the wizard she loved. Pulling the covers up as they'd slipped down almost revealing Draco's backside, Hermione lightly ran her fingers through Draco's soft blond hair and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. She then left Draco to have another couple of hours rest as she grabbed herself some breakfast and settled herself in her study.

Arriving in her study, the first thing Hermione did was remove an enchanted blue folder she kept locked in her bottom drawer. Checking that the folder was empty, she placed it on her desk and set about doing a bit of other work while she waited for the glowing of the folder to signify the report she was waiting for had arrived. The folder was connected to another identical folder, which was in the possession of Marcus Flint, and once Marcus had fully written up his report, he would place it in his folder and a simple spell would transfer it to Hermione's.

As always when she was waiting for the monthly report from Marcus, Hermione found it hard to concentrate on much else. Getting nowhere with her other work, Hermione put it to one side, and turning to gaze out of the large window that offered stunning views of the large country grounds of the house she owned with Draco, she thought about the report she was about to receive, and if it would be any different from the others she'd received over the last year.

The report Hermione was waiting for was an in-depth account of how Ginny Weasley had spent her last month, including the previous evening's full moon. When she'd engineered Ginny's transformation into a werewolf, Hermione had been a hundred percent sure it was the right thing to do. It had been the best way of ruining her life and shutting the Weasleys up for good, and in actual fact the plan had worked even better than she'd hoped for when the papers had gotten wind of the story and even implied that Ginny and her family were themselves responsible for what had happened.

It was after the conversation she and Draco had a few weeks after Ginny's attack that Hermione seriously began to think about how what she'd done to Ginny would affect Draco. At the moment he wasn't ready for the world to know he was a werewolf, but Hermione knew that wouldn't always be the case. And when he was ready for the world to find out his secret, he wanted to take the opportunity to change people's perspectives on werewolves. Hermione knew it would take years, both for Draco to be ready to go public with his lycanthropy, and for any changes of public opinion to really take hold, but she didn't want Ginny taking advantage of any of the positive moves Draco made.

Logically Hermione knew that it would be so long before there was any real changes that it might not even impact on Ginny. By that point she would have been a werewolf for years, and would have been in a self-loathing rut for all of that time. Still, Hermione had been worried and for the first time she'd regretted her rash actions. Draco had assured her that she'd done the right thing with Ginny, and her revenge had been perfect, but she was worried that she had ruined things for Draco trying to change the world where werewolves were concerned.

Not sure how to rectify her mistakes, Hermione had privately spoken to Marcus and given him the task of watching Ginny as much as he could. She paid him handsomely in exchange for information, and so far he hadn't disappointed. Hermione knew her father kept an eye on Ginny, just in case she decided to use the fact she was a werewolf to attack, but as Hermione had so rightly predicted turning Ginny into a werewolf had broken her completely. She didn't have any fighting spirit left in her, and Hermione suspected the only way she would even think of retaliating against the dark was if they pushed her over the edge and did something to her parents or remaining brothers. But since the Weasleys had gone to ground following Ginny's transformation there was no need to kill any more of them, and Voldemort merely kept a precautionary eye on the family.

Turning back to her desk, a ghost of a smile flitted over Hermione's face as she caught the fading glow of the file. Picking up the file, she slid out the sheets of parchment and began to read. As usual there was very little to report, but Marcus hadn't missed a thing. There were notes on every day of the past month, and a description of how Ginny had spent the previous evening.

Unlike Draco was loved the full moon and had been in his element the previous evening, for Ginny it had been pure torture. The Weasleys had converted an old shed on the property as a safe haven for Ginny on a full moon. In the shed were chains and restraints, and Ginny was secured in the shed long before the moon rose. She was then stuck in the shed until either Molly or Arthur released the wards the following morning. According to Marcus while she was in her wolf form she constantly tried to break free of her prison, but the closest she'd come was tearing out a small section of the shed, which Arthur had promptly fixed the following morning and made it stronger.

Initially Hermione had been worried about the reports of Ginny trying to get loose while in wolf form, but both Draco and Greyback had reassured her that it was just her animal instinct taking over and she wasn't trying to come and get them. And if Hermione needed proof that Ginny wasn't really a threat, all she had to do was look at how she'd spent the rest of the year when she wasn't a wolf. Ginny had been a werewolf for a mere year and in that time her life had fallen to pieces.

Ginny had never returned to school, nor had she even bothered to take her exams privately. All her friends had deserted her and the couple of times she had ventured out to Diagon Alley with Molly she'd been jeered and shunned. She hadn't even been able to find a job, and even though the twins had tried to help and given her some work at the shop, they'd faced a boycott when word spread that they had hired a werewolf. Not wanting to lose their business, the twins had stopped Ginny from working for them, and these days she spent all her days at The Burrow.

Given the changes Draco wanted to make, the treatment of Ginny wasn't encouraging in general, but it was what Hermione had wanted. She'd been looking to destroy Ginny to ostracise her from the wizarding world, and that was exactly what had happened. A year into her new life, Ginny was struggling and already she was a shell of her former self. Marcus sometimes included pictures in his reports, and Hermione had been both shocked and pleased to see the latest pictures of Ginny had her looking frail and skeletal. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that her plan had worked, and she'd ruined Ginny's life.

Now all she had to worry about was Draco, and helping him when he was ready to take his condition public. Hermione knew she didn't need to worry about Ginny getting hold of new potions to help deal with the effects of lycanthropy, as in Hermione's eyes there was no need for such potions and she would do her best to make sure none ever existed. Draco didn't need a potion to help him cope, and anyone who did were losers like Ginny and Hermione wasn't interested in helping them. However, she didn't want Ginny to take advantage of any other changes Draco might bring about. After going to all the trouble of turning Ginny the last thing she wanted to do was offer her some hope of a normal life. She would have to do whatever it took to ensure that Ginny would remain in her state of pitiful self-loathing for as long as she lived.

"Ah, the Weaselette report," Draco's voice called from the doorway.

Hermione looked up and smiled at the sight of Draco leaning against the doorframe. He'd pulled on a pair of dark jogging bottoms, but he was still topless and his hair was still dishevelled from sleep.

"Anything new?" Draco asked as he strolled across the room and kissed Hermione, before looking down at the papers on her desk.

"Just the same," Hermione reported as she gathered up the papers and opening her safe she deposited them in a box where she kept Marcus's other reports. She then returned the blue folder back to her desk drawer to await next month's news.

"That's good, isn't it?" Draco asked, noting Hermione's lack of enthusiasm. "You've got exactly what you wanted. She's completely and utterly broken. Even her own family are slowly drifting away from her. The twins employed her for two minutes before getting rid of her and from what Harry says, Percy is doing his utmost to pretend he doesn't even have a sister. The Weasleys are no longer a threat, so why the long face?"

"Sometimes I wish I hadn't been so rash in my youth," Hermione admitted with a sigh.

"You make it sound like you're a hundred," Draco laughed. "We only turned Weaselette last year. You're still young."

"I know, but only now I see the big picture," Hermione replied. "Last year I was so cocky and so focused on revenge that I never thought about the future. I didn't think about you."

"Yes, you did," Draco corrected. "We talked about this, and I fully supported your decision."

"But now it's going to be harder for you to change things," Hermione protested.

"I'm not ready to change things, Hermione," Draco said quietly, settling himself down on Hermione's chair and pulling her onto his lap. "Everyone I care about knows about my condition, and for now that's enough for me. I'm not ready to fight and try and get people to change their attitudes towards werewolves. It might be years before I'm ready for that fight, but I know when I'm ready, you'll be right at my side fighting with me."

"I will," Hermione vowed. "But we'll still have to think about Ginny. We can't change things for werewolves and expect her to still live this downtrodden miserable life she's settled into."

"If you want my honest opinion, I'm not sure she's going to be around long enough to be a consideration," Draco said. "Just look at the mess she's in after just one year. How many years do you think she can cope? Because, I can't see her lasting any serious time if things carry on in the same vein. Looking at her now, I can't see her still being around in say ten years."

"I see where you're coming from, but don't underestimate her," Hermione warned. "She's tougher than she looks. Just look at how she carried on fighting even after what had happened to Ron, Bill and Charlie."

"That was different," Draco replied. "She still felt as though she had something to fight for then. But what does she have to fight for now? She's got no job, no friends, no love life and even her family are suffering because of her. Keep an eye on her by all means, but don't worry yourself about her. As I said, it's going to be years before I'm ready to start fighting, and by then she might not even be a problem. Don't worry about the future, focus on right now."

"You're right," Hermione agreed with a determined nod. "Marcus will warn me if she's going to become a threat. Right now, she's exactly where we want her."

"And you're exactly where I want you," Draco said with a smirk as he slid his hand up the back of Hermione's top and with one hand expertly flicked open the catch of her bra.

"You're insatiable," Hermione laughed as his hand slid around her front and pushed under her open bra to massage her breast.

"I'm an animal," Draco growled, crashing his lips against Hermione's and silencing their conversation for the time being.

Ginny wasn't just going to go away, but for the time being she slipped from Hermione's mind as she focused on the present, and more importantly what Draco was doing to her. An hour later the couple emerged from Hermione's study, and as they settled down to spend the rest of the weekend together, Ginny wasn't mentioned again. She was something to possibly be dealt with in the future, right now everything was just fine and Ginny was exactly where Hermione had always wanted her - broken, ostracised and with nothing to live for.


	11. A Sliver of Hope

**A/N - This is another piece set after year 7. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **A Sliver of Hope.**

In the floo room of the house he shared with his wife, Draco was saying goodbye to their friends as one by one they flooed home. It was Hermione's birthday at the weekend and they'd had a few friends around for dinner to celebrate. The actual day would be spent with the rest of the family, but Draco had arranged the dinner so that Hermione could celebrate with her friends as well. The only problem was, Draco had noticed his wife had been off all evening. Chances were the only other person who would have noticed her slightly strange behaviour was Harry, everyone else likely thought she was her normal self.

"Is Hermione okay?" Harry asked Draco, once he and Daphne were the only ones left in the room.

"I have no idea," Draco admitted with a sigh. "She was fine when I mentioned the dinner, and she seemed her normal self this morning."

"Should I stay and try and help you figure out what's wrong?" Harry offered.

"I can find out what's bothering my wife on my own," Draco replied with a roll of his eyes.

"If you need any help, just call. You know how stubborn my aunt can be," Harry said with a small laugh.

"Don't I just," Draco replied. "But we'll be fine."

"Okay," Harry said with a nod as he gestured for his wife to leave first. "Bye Uncle Draco," he called mischievously as he stepped into the flames once his wife had gone.

"Bugger off, Harry," Draco snarled light-heartedly, giving his laughing best friend the finger as he vanished in a whirl of emerald flames.

Once Draco was sure Harry wasn't still in transit, he locked the floo network and set off to find his wife. She'd still been in the living room tidying up when everyone had started to leave, but when Draco entered the room it was empty. The kitchen, the library, her study and the dining room were also empty, so Draco decided to try upstairs. Sure enough he found Hermione standing at their bedroom window, looking out over the countryside where they lived in peace.

"Has everyone gone?" Hermione asked as Draco walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"They have," Draco answered, dropping a light kiss to his wife's neck. "And did you enjoy the evening?"

"I did," Hermione answered with a nod.

"That's a relief, because I could have sworn there was something wrong with you all night," Draco said, gently turning Hermione around so that she was facing him. "Harry also thought you were off."

"I'm fine," Hermione replied with a tight smile.

To anyone who didn't know her so well, the smile would have seemed genuine, but Draco had known Hermione his entire life. Even when they'd just been friends he'd been able to read her like a book and he'd always known what made her tick. And that connection had only gotten stronger once they became romantically involved. So he wasn't buying her act for a second, something was bothering her and he intended to find out what.

"Liar," He said, knowing that being straightforward was the best way to go when trying to get something out of Hermione. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Hermione insisted.

"Hermione, I know you too well," Draco pressed. "Something is wrong."

"It's not wrong, I've just got something on my mind," Hermione said with a deep sigh.

"What?" Draco asked warily.

"Let's sit down." Taking hold of Draco's hand, Hermione led him over to the bed and sat down.

"Now you're worrying me," Draco said quietly, his mind whirling with possibilities of what his wife could be about to tell him.

"There's nothing to worry about," Hermione reassured her husband as she gave his hand a squeeze.

"Then why so serious?"

"Because I'm not sure what you're going to think about what I have to say," Hermione confessed.

"You can tell me anything, Hermione," Draco said, giving his wife a small smile. "What is it?"

Hermione took a deep breath before she blurted out the secret she'd been carrying around with her for the last couple of weeks. "I want a baby."

Draco physically recoiled at her words and he jumped to his feet, walking over to the window. Leaning his head against the cool glass, he looked out at the night sky, hoping that he'd heard wrong. He'd always known this day would arrive, but he just didn't want to deal with it yet. Not when it was the only thing he could think of that could possibly destroy his marriage and lose him the witch he loved with all his heart.

Draco had raised the topic of children with Hermione before they were married. Given the fact he was a werewolf, he knew having children wouldn't be straightforward, and he'd wanted to get everything out in the open before they got married. However, Hermione had brushed over his concerns and assured him they would talk about it when they were older and possibly ready to start a family. Draco had tried to tell Hermione that he wasn't sure he wanted children, not with his condition, but she hadn't wanted to listen to him. He knew he should have pressed harder and made her listen, but the truth was he hadn't wanted to lose her, so he'd let the matter drop and decided to wait until later to deal with it. He just hadn't expected it to rear its head again so soon.

"I know what you're going to say," Hermione said quietly.

"Do you?" Draco whirled back around to face Hermione, his grey eyes flashing angrily. "Because you didn't want to hear it last time we talked about this. You wanted to ignore it, because you knew you wouldn't like what I had to say."

"That's not why I wouldn't talk about it," Hermione insisted, surging to her feet and glaring back at her husband. "I just didn't see the point in discussing something that was years in the future."

"And now here we are, years in the future and it's going to tear us apart," Draco shot back.

Hermione flinched at Draco's words and took a step back from her husband. "You really think that?" She whispered. "You really think this is the end?"

"I hope not," Draco said with a sigh. "But I cannot give you the baby you want, Hermione."

"Do you have a problem I don't know about?" Hermione asked, deliberately being obtuse. She knew what Draco's issue was, but it wasn't an issue for her.

"You're aware of my problem," Draco snorted.

"I thought you'd stopped thinking of it as a problem a long time ago," Hermione said in a calm voice. "You and I both know you love being a wolf. You've got full control, and you've never once hurt anyone."

"I think Weaselette will argue with you on that one," Draco said with a dark chuckle.

"Correction, you've never once hurt anyone you love," Hermione said. "You don't even think about turning into a wolf in front of anyone anymore. Just last month, you curled up with me in your wolf from when I was in the library reading and wasn't feeling up to joining you outside."

"We're not debating how much control I have as a wolf," Draco argued. "We both know that's not an issue anymore. I'm not worried about hurting our child."

"You're worried about passing the werewolf gene onto them," Hermione whispered, voicing the problem they'd both known had existed for years.

"And you're not?" Draco questioned. "You're not in the least bit worried in case our child turns out to be a werewolf."

"There are worse things than being a werewolf," Hermione said softly. "Being a wolf doesn't stop you from being the wizard I love."

"It's not about what the child will be like as a wolf," Draco said quietly as he returned to the bed and slumped down on the edge. "I'm sure any child of ours could cope with it, the point it, I don't want them to. Sure, I love being a wolf now and I wouldn't change it for the world, but you saw how hard it was for me to adjust. It almost broke us."

"But it didn't, we're still together and we're stronger than ever," Hermione said, joining her husband on the bed and taking hold of his hand. "We got through it, and so would our child."

"And you would want to inflict that pain and suffering on a child?" Draco asked, his grey eyes boring into his wife as he tried to make her understand his hesitance. "I was seventeen when it happened to me, and I nearly wasn't strong enough to cope. How can you expect a child to deal with that? I understood from the beginning that I needed to embrace the wolf, without tainting who I was as a person. A child cannot be expected to know that. They could hurt someone as a wolf, and then have to face the consequences of that as a human. It's too much to ask a child to handle. I'm sorry Hermione, but I will not do that to my child."

Leaving his words to sink in with his wife, Draco got up and headed into the bathroom. When he returned, nearly twenty minutes later, Hermione was still sitting where he'd left her, her face a mask of pain and confusion. Walking back over to Hermione, he crouched down in front of her and placed a hand on her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said softly. "I would love nothing more than to have children with you, but I just can't do it. I can't hurt a child of mine like that."

"I understand," Hermione said softly, taking Draco's hand in hers and raising it to her lips. "I'd never thought of it like you had before. I knew there'd be a chance our child would be a werewolf, but I never thought about what it would be like for them. I always figured that if it happened, we would deal with it as a family."

"Sounds nice in an ideal world, but there's too much risk involved," Draco said.

"What if I can find a way to eliminate the risk?" Hermione asked, a small smile creeping onto her face. "What if I can find a way to ensure that our child wouldn't inherit your werewolf gene?"

"Again, it sounds nice, but it can't be done," Draco said with a sigh as he got back to his feet. "Do you really think I haven't looked into this, Hermione? I've spent years scouring books and speaking to people who know about this sort of thing, and there's just no way to do what you're suggesting. There's no way of guaranteeing a child we conceive won't have the werewolf gene. We could get lucky, but even using Felix Felicis won't guarantee I won't pass the gene on."

"You've thought about using the luck potion?" Hermione questioned.

"I have, but as I say, it's not guaranteed," Draco replied. "Nothing is. There will always be that risk, and I can never take it."

"But if I can find a way to eliminate the risk, would you have a baby with me?" Hermione pressed. "Would you give me what I wanted if I could guarantee you that our child wouldn't be a werewolf?"

"If you could guarantee it, of course I would," Draco answered as Hermione walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling close to him.

"Trust me Draco," Hermione whispered. "I want a baby, I want your baby. And I always get what I want. I will find a way to make this happen, I promise."

Wrapping his arms around Hermione, a sliver of hope began to shine inside him. If anyone could find their way around the impossible situation they were in, it would be Hermione. If anyone could get them the baby they wanted, it would be his wife. He would just have to trust Hermione, and hope that she could deliver them the baby that would make their family complete.


	12. The New Arrival

**A/N - This is another piece set after year 7 - this time focusing on Harry and Daphne. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **The New Arrival.**

It was a rainy Monday morning when Harry was woken in the early hours by the sound of his wife, Daphne, cursing loudly from the bathroom. Assuming his heavily pregnant wife was just struggling with her hormones, Harry paid no attention to the shouts and attempted to get a few more hours sleep. However, when the cries continued he got worried and hauled himself out of bed.

"Daph?" He questioned, poking his head around the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

"Do I bloody well look okay?" Daphne snarled back. She was clutching onto the sink and breathing heavily, one arm wrapped around her stomach.

Spotting a puddle of water on the floor, Harry winced slightly and gave his wife a sympathetic look. "It's okay Daphne, it was just an accident."

"Accident?" Daphne frowned in confusion before she realised what her husband was referring to. "I haven't wet myself, Harry. My waters have broken."

"Oh that's a relief," Harry whistled, before the reality of what Daphne had said dawned on him and his eyes widened comically. "Bloody hell, you're in labour."

"Really? I hadn't realised," Daphne muttered sarcastically as she let out another cry of pain. "Don't just stand there, do something," she cried when Harry just stood watching her.

"We better get you to hospital," Harry said, rushing forward and helping his wife out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

"My bags in the wardrobe," Daphne said.

Harry rushed over to the wardrobe, grabbed the bag his wife had pre-prepared and rushed towards the bedroom door. He was out of the bedroom and halfway to the stairs, before he realised Daphne wasn't with him. Returning to the bedroom, he found his wife slipping on a pair of shoes.

"Daphne, we don't have time for you to get dressed," Harry cried. "Our daughter is coming."

"She can wait for me to put some shoes on," Daphne muttered. "And maybe you should put something on."

Harry looked down at himself and realised for the first time that all he was wearing was a pair of dark blue boxers. Daphne was in a pair of comfortable pyjamas, whereas the previous night he'd fallen into bed in just his underwear. Quickly grabbing some trousers and a t-shirt he yanked them on and stuck his feet into a pair of old trainers. He then gathered Daphne in his arms and hurried her off to the private hospital the family always used.

By the time Daphne was settled into her room at the hospital her labour pains were coming with more regularity. Harry didn't even have time to slip away and inform the family that his wife was in labour as he couldn't leave her side. All morning, Daphne battled the pain of labour, while Harry remained at her side, supporting and encouraging her. At midday exactly their wait came to an end, and their daughter entered the world with a loud cry.

"Congratulations," the medi-witch handling the labour said as she cleaned the baby up and passed her to Daphne.

"She's so tiny," Harry whispered, looking down at the tiny, red bundle in his wife's arms. He'd seen both his youngest aunt and sister after their births, but nothing prepared him for seeing his own child.

"She's perfect," Daphne said, smiling at her daughter. "Just perfect."

"We'll just check her over," the medi-witch said as she took the baby back off Daphne.

Ten minutes later all the checks were complete and Harry and Daphne were left alone with their perfect baby girl.

"I guess I should tell the family she's here," Harry said, reluctant to leave his wife and daughter.

"I guess so," Daphne agreed, not taking her eyes off her daughter. "Go on, Harry," she urged her husband with a small chuckle as he remained rooted at her side. "We're not going anywhere, we'll be here when you get back."

"Okay, I'm going," Harry said, moving away from his wife's bedside. "Although before I go maybe we should talk about names."

"Why?" Daphne asked. "I thought we'd picked a name for her."

"We did, but I wanted to be sure you still wanted to do that," Harry replied.

"I do," Daphne answered with a nod. "Besides, I think the name suits her perfectly. Now go and get the family so we can introduce the newest child of the dark."

"Hermione will love hearing you say that," Harry said with a chuckle as he headed off to inform the family that they had a new member.

It took Harry half an hour to reach every member of the family and inform them that Daphne had given birth. Some members of the family, like Daphne's sister, Astoria, and her parents, were busy and couldn't come to the hospital straight away, but most of them dropped everything and arrived at the hospital within the hour. Harry greeted everyone in the relative's room, and informed them that they would have to visit Daphne in small groups.

Draco and Hermione were the first ones into the room to see Daphne and her daughter. Hermione instantly fell in love with the baby as she cradled her in her arms, while Draco clapped Harry on the arm in congratulations.

"She's so adorable," Hermione cooed.

"Yeah, she's nothing like you Harry, she's all Daphne," Draco joked.

"Let's hope your baby is all Hermione then," Harry shot back. Hermione was six months pregnant, but unlike him and Daphne who'd known the sex of their child, they were waiting for the birth to see if they were having a boy or a girl.

"I hope for it every day," Draco said quietly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Harry said with a wince. He knew Hermione was only pregnant because of a potion she'd discovered that prevented their child from taking on Draco's werewolf gene, but even so Draco still worried that the potion would fail and their child would be a werewolf like him.

"I know," Draco replied, forcing a smile on his face. "Just ignore me, Harry. I actually think she might have your eyes."

"I think so," Daphne said with a smile as Hermione handed her daughter back to her.

"So do you have a name for her?" Hermione asked.

"We do, but if it's okay, we'd like to tell Dad first," Harry said.

"Of course," Hermione replied with a nod, already suspecting what the newest member of the family was going to be called.

After five more minutes, Hermione and Draco said their goodbyes and headed back to the relatives room. They were replaced by Beth and Voldemort, both of whom were eager to meet their new great-granddaughter.

"I can't believe my grandson has a child," Voldemort said with a chuckle. "It makes me feel so old."

"You are getting on a bit," Harry joked. In fact his grandfather was still the picture of health, and he still played a big part in ensuring that the wizarding world remained in the dark's control.

Beth and Voldemort stayed for a few minutes, before leaving and allowing Charlotte and Caroline to visit the newest member of the family. Once Harry's aunt and sister had left, Severus and Rosmerta arrived to meet their granddaughter.

"She's gorgeous," Rosmerta said, having a cuddle with her granddaughter.

"She is," Severus agreed, giving Harry a proud smile. "Well done, Harry."

"I think Daphne played her part," Rosmerta said, arching an eyebrow at her husband. "In fact, she did a hell of a lot more than Harry. Giving birth is no easy task."

"I know, I can remember the fuss you made having Caro," Severus replied with a chuckle.

"Fuss?" Rosmerta questioned in indignation. "You call giving birth to your daughter, making a fuss."

"Don't you want to know your granddaughter's name?" Harry called, interrupting the bickering.

"Of course," Severus said, turning back to his son. "I have to say, you've picked a name quickly. It took us ages to settle on Caroline."

"You mean it took you ages," Rosmerta said with a smile as she handed Daphne the baby back and slid her arm around her husband's waist. "Caroline was always my choice, but you had to consider everything."

"I just wanted her name to be perfect," Severus muttered.

"So did we, and that's why we've been discussing it for months," Harry said, joining Daphne on the bed. "And now she's here, we know we've picked the perfect name."

"Don't keep us in suspense," Severus urged. "What's she called?"

"Lily-Rose," Harry replied with a smile. "I thought Lily after Mum, and Rose for Rosmerta."

"You want to honour me in your child's name?" Rosmerta asked with a gasp.

"I do," Harry answered. "I love you Rosmerta, and I know Lily-Rose will also love you. But if it's not okay, we can change it."

"I think it's perfect," Rosmerta replied, tears welling in her eyes at the lovely gesture from the wizard she thought of as a son.

"Dad?" Harry asked, aware that his father hadn't said anything about him naming his daughter after the two loves of Severus's life.

"Like Rosmerta said, it's perfect," Severus replied hoarsely, his emotions evident in his voice. "Your Mum would be so proud of you, Harry. Just like Rosmerta and I are. You're the best son we ever could have wished for."

"And you're the best parents," Harry answered, giving both his father and stepmother a hug. "And you'll be the best grandparents."

"We'll certainly try," Severus said as he made his way over to Daphne to fully congratulate her and to hold his new granddaughter. "Lily-Rose," he whispered, taking the baby into his arms and gazing down at her with love shining in his dark eyes.

Harry watched the scene with a smile on his face. No doubt Lily-Rose would grow up to be something special in this new generation of Children of the Dark, but for now he was just going to enjoy the newness of being a father. He had everything he ever wanted, and he planned on enjoying every second of it.


	13. Glasses

**A/N - I just wanted to clear up any confusion about this chapter. I did originally post it on Friday, but I took it back down again when the site was still not issuing notifications for story updates. Until I post this, I have no idea if they're working again, but this chapter will stay up even if they're not working again. However, until the issue is sorted, I might not be posting Power of Love and Goddess of Vengeance. Last week I posted both a chapter of Power of Love and The Reunion, and without the alerts going out it seemed as though most people missed the updates. I will be posting The Reunion as normal on Wednesday, and if the alerts are still not working, I will make a decision then as to whether to post Power of Love and Goddess of Vengeance as normal or wait until the issue is resolved. I can promise that** **when it is fixed, I'm planning on doing extra chapters of Power of Love and Goddess of Vengeance to make up for the delay in posting.**

 **I also just wanted to address a couple of rude reviews I've had while this has been going on. I know people are used to my regular updates, and while I had a couple of really lovely messages checking that I was okay and that nothing bad had happened, I also received a couple of rude reviews demanding to know why I hadn't updated. One even wanted to know what I was doing updating an older story (this one), instead of my newer stories.**

 **I post on a schedule, partly so I know what I'm doing, but mainly so that people know when my stories will be updated and don't have to worry about not receiving updates for months at a time. I don't have to post like this, I could just post when and if I feel like it, so I find it quite rude when people demand to know why I haven't updated. Unless there's an issue like this, I always update when I say I will, so I don't think there's any need for people to be rude when something gets my schedule off track.**

 **I also just want to remind people that I can't personally respond to guest reviews. Some guest reviewers have been nicely wondering where the updates are, and because they're guests I can't reply to them. If someone reviews using an account, I can send them a message and reply to their questions, but I can't do that with guests. So I'm just wanting them to know I'm not ignoring them, I just have no way of contacting them.**

 **Finally, I hope this issue is resolved soon, or this notification goes out to my followers, so I can get back to my normal publishing routine. As I said, bonus chapters will be coming up with Power of Love and Goddess of Vengeance, so let's hope things get back to normal soon.**

 **Now onto this collection piece. This chapter goes back to before the trio started Hogwarts. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Glasses.**

Normally Draco would have been unimpressed if his mother informed him she was going to visit her friend, and he had to tag along. However, since the friend she was visiting was Beth, Draco had no problem accompanying his mother. Going to Beth's house meant he would get to spend the afternoon with his best friends. The trio were due to start school in a couple of weeks, and Draco knew they wouldn't exactly get much time together at Hogwarts. Not when Hermione would be pretending to be a muggleborn, and she and Harry would both be sorted into Gryffindor. Still, the holidays weren't over just yet and Draco figured they could still have more fun before they had to start Hogwarts.

"Harry and Hermione are both upstairs," Beth informed Draco when he and Narcissa arrived at the large house she shared with her husband, daughter and grandson.

"Thanks Beth," Draco called as he headed towards the stairs.

As a regular visitor to the house, he knew just which bedrooms belonged to his best friends. Hermione's room was the one he reached first, so he knocked on the door and poked his head into the room to see if his friend was in residence. Hermione was in her room, lying on her bed, her nose in a book. In preparation of fooling people into thinking she was a muggle, Hermione spent most of the summer doing research, so Draco was guessing she was reading yet another muggle book.

"Reading again?" Draco laughed as he walked over to Hermione's bed.

"Draco." Hermione smiled widely at her best friend as she slammed shut the large book she was reading.

"Hogwarts: A History," Draco remarked, reading the cover of the book his friend had been pouring over. "What happened to your muggle books?"

"I know everything there is to know about muggles," Hermione replied with a smug smirk. "Test me."

"How?" Draco snorted. "I know nothing about muggles."

"You'll just have to take my word for it then," Hermione said with a shrug.

"Don't worry, I believe you," Draco said with a grin. If Hermione said she knew everything there was to know about muggles, then you could be certain that she did. "Where's Harry?"

"In his room," Hermione answered.

"Have you two had a falling out?" Draco asked. His two best friends rarely argued, but they were both pretty opinionated and stubborn, so when they did fight it was usually pretty epic.

"No," Hermione replied. "We don't spend every single minute of the day together you know."

"Shall we go and see him then?" Draco asked. "Maybe the three of us could do something this afternoon."

"As long as it's not flying, I'm in," Hermione said as she bounced up off the bed.

"Just what do you have against flying?" Draco whined. As much as he loved Hermione, it frustrated him that she had such a downer on his favourite pastime.

"Nothing, it just doesn't appeal to me," Hermione answered with a shrug. "Why would I want to float around in the air on some stick? It's boring and uncomfortable."

"Are you sure you're not just scared?" Draco teased, nudging his best friend in the side.

"I am not scared," Hermione replied haughtily. Giving Draco a glare, she flicked her long curly hair over her shoulder and stomped out of the room.

Rolling his eyes at her dramatics, he followed after her. "Sorry. I know you're not scared. You're not scared of anything."

"I am," Hermione confessed in a quiet whisper as she stopped outside of her nephew's bedroom.

"What are you scared of?" Draco asked, taking hold of Hermione's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Failing," Hermione replied quietly. "I don't want to let Daddy down, but what if I can't do it? What if I can't convince everyone I'm a muggleborn?"

"You will," Draco reassured her. "You're Hermione Granger, the brightest witch I know. You can achieve anything you want. After a few weeks at Hogwarts you'll have everyone eating out of the palm of your hand. I predict that within the year you'll be the perfect little Gryffindor Princess."

"Do you really think so?" Hermione asked with a small smile.

"I do," Draco replied, nodding his head.

"Thank you, Draco, you're the best friend a girl could have," Hermione said, throwing her arms around her friend's neck and pressing a light kiss to his cheek, causing the pale boy to blush slightly.

"Let's go and see what Harry's up to," Draco said, trying to ignore the heat he felt in his cheeks.

Whirling around, Hermione knocked on her nephew's door, before ploughing into the room without waiting for an answer. Draco was right behind Hermione, and the pair skidded to a stop when they found Harry standing in front of the mirror, wearing a pair of round black rimmed glasses. Since Harry's eyesight was perfect, neither of them were quite sure what the glasses were for.

"Hey guys, what do you think?" Harry asked as he turned to face his best friend and his aunt.

"I think you look like a dork," Draco sniggered. "Why are you wearing such geeky glasses?"

"Why are you wearing glasses at all?" Hermione asked with a frown. "They don't suit you."

"I know that, they're horrible," Harry replied, pulling them off and throwing them onto his desk.

"So why are you wearing them?" Draco asked.

"Dad and Grandad came up with the idea," Harry explained. "They think I look too much like Dad, so they were trying to find a way to keep people from spotting the similarities."

"So what? They thought they would turn you into Clark Kent?" Hermione sniggered.

"Clark who?" Draco frowned.

"A muggle thing," Harry explained to a bemused Draco. Like Hermione he'd been researching muggles since he'd been supposedly raised by them. "There's this muggle comic about a superhero called Superman."

"Now that's an original name," Draco snorted.

"Anyway, this superhero has an ordinary life and to stop people from realising he's Superman, he wears glasses."

"What are they, some sort of magic glasses that change his appearance?" Draco asked with a confused frown.

"No, they're normal glasses," Hermione answered. "I know, it makes no sense and it's very obvious that's he Superman, but in the comics it works."

"So that's what Severus and your grandfather think you should do?" Draco questioned, the bemusement still evident in his voice. "Wear glasses so people don't think you look like Severus."

"Actually, they thought the glasses would help convince people I look like James Potter," Harry said with a grimace. "He wore glasses, and Dad found me some that look like the type he used to wear. He's hoping between the glasses, and the fact my hair is black, I'll pass as Potter's son."

"That could actually make sense," Hermione conceded. "People are going to assume Harry is Potter's son anyway, and the glasses will just reinforce that. More than likely they won't make the connection to Severus because they're not looking for it."

"Put them on again so we can have another look," Draco urged his friend.

Picking the glasses up from where he'd thrown them, Harry put them back on and faced his friends. Hermione and Draco both scrutinised him for several seconds before they nodded their heads.

"It does minimise the resemblance to Severus," Hermione said. "It won't fool anyone who truly looks at you and Severus together, but I doubt people are going to do that. Why look for a connection that as far as they know doesn't exist."

"Let's hope you're right," Harry said as he removed the glasses once more.

"I agree that the glasses will probably work," Draco said. "But I do stand by what I said earlier. They are not a good look for you, Harry."

"You've got room to talk, gel-boy," Harry retorted. "Seriously, your hair looks like a helmet you've got so much gel in it."

"It does not," Draco muttered with a pout as his hand automatically reached up to check his hair was still perfect. For the last couple of weeks, he'd been experimenting with changing his style, and he'd started gelling his blond hair back.

"It kind of does," Hermione snickered.

"Hey, whose side are you on?" Draco protested, giving Hermione a mock glare.

"The side of decent hair," Hermione shot back.

"I don't think decent hair is how I would describe your bushy mop," Draco said with a smirk.

"Bushy mop?" Hermione squealed in outrage, smoothing down her curly hair which sometimes had a mind of its own and could get out of control.

"Looks like I'm the only one with decent hair," Harry said smugly.

"That is not decent hair, it won't even lie down flat," Hermione snorted.

"Yeah, your hair is always sticking up at odd angles," Draco added, sharing a grin with Hermione as they ganged up on Harry.

"At least my hair can stick up, yours is stuck to your scalp," Harry retorted.

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but as he did so, he caught Harry's smirk and the pair burst into laughter. Hermione soon joined in the laughter as they continued to bicker with each other about their hair.

Once the laughter had died down, the trio headed outside to enjoy the summer sun. After all, they'd soon be off to Hogwarts, so they had to enjoy the time they had left together. Very soon they'd be at school, and even if they could sneak around, they wouldn't be able to be friends in public. Maybe one day it would happen, but it certainly wouldn't be any time in the next few years, and all three of them knew that. In a few weeks they would start a charade that would potentially last for years, so they had to make the most of the time they had when they could just be themselves and didn't have to worry about keeping up some sort of pretence.


	14. Nocturnal Wanderings

**A/N - This piece fits into seventh year.**

* * *

 **Nocturnal Wanderings.**

It was the first week of the new school year as McGonagall strode around the quiet castle of Hogwarts, keeping an eye out for misbehaving students. It was half an hour before curfew and most students were already settled in their common rooms, but experience had taught McGonagall that there were always a few students ready to cause trouble at all hours of the day and night.

Technically the halls should be patrolled by prefects and the head students, not professors, but this year McGonagall didn't trust the new head students. Ironically a few years ago McGonagall would have had no qualms about Hermione being the head girl, but then the truth about who she truly was came out and everything changed. As the daughter of The Dark Lord she couldn't be trusted, and her act as the innocent muggleborn for five years had proven just that.

As for the head boy, McGonagall would never have given the position to Draco. It was true that academically he was right at the top of the class alongside Hermione and his behavioural record was fairly good, with just a few minor blemishes gracing his first six years of schooling. However, he was cocky and bullish and McGonagall did not believe he was a good example for the rest of the students. However, it was clear to McGonagall that this year the head students had not been chosen on ability, they were chosen because of their connection to the headmaster.

McGonagall had actually been surprised when Severus hadn't appointed his own son as head boy, but she'd understood why he'd plumped for Draco when he explained the head students would have their own dorms. McGonagall could remember the days when the head students shared dorms, and she'd fully backed Dumbledore when he'd shut down the process. Far too often they'd caught the head students in a compromising position and the final straw had come when one head girl had fallen pregnant and it transpired that the head boy was the father. Given that Hermione and Draco were a couple, McGonagall thought it was inappropriate for them to be sharing dorms, but as with everything else since Severus had taken over as headmaster, her objections had been ignored.

Mulling on the situation with the head students, McGonagall continued her patrol of the school. By the time curfew rolled around she'd seen a handful of students and encountered no problems. Heading back towards her office, she passed down a corridor full of old abandoned classrooms and paused as she heard voices coming from one of the rooms. Suspecting it was misbehaving students, McGonagall pushed open the door to the classroom, a disapproving look etched onto her face.

What she found wasn't just any two misbehaving students, it was the head students. The room contained a large window with a seat in front of the glass, and Hermione and Draco were settled on the seat. Draco's shirt had been discarded and he was sitting bare chested, nuzzling at Hermione's neck. Hermione was sitting in between his legs, her own shirt wide open revealing a lacy green bra, while her head was thrown back against Draco as he kissed her. Draco's hand was up under Hermione's skirt, and even though the skirt covered what he was doing, McGonagall had a fair idea by Hermione's breathless moans.

"Excuse me," McGonagall snapped loudly as the pair failed to react to her presence.

Ever so slowly Hermione opened her eyes and raised her head to look at McGonagall. At the same time, Draco raised his head and glared defiantly at the deputy headmistress. McGonagall was annoyed to find that not only did they seem unworried to be caught by her, but they made no move to separate. Draco's hand was now still, but it was still under Hermione's skirt.

"Just what do the pair of you think you're doing?" McGonagall demanded.

"Having a bit of fun," Draco replied with a smirk.

"The pair of you are supposed to be responsible," McGonagall snarled. "You're supposed to be setting an example."

"It's not like the whole school caught us," Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes.

"That is not the point," McGonagall retorted sharply. "The point is, the pair of you are head students and as such you should be setting an example to the rest of the school on how to behave. This is not the actions of two responsible students. I will have to report this."

"You're going to report us?" Hermione questioned with a slight laugh. "Who to?"

"The headmaster," McGonagall replied, forgetting for a minute that Albus was gone and Severus was the new headmaster.

"You mean the headmaster who also happens to be my big brother," Hermione said, smirking at McGonagall as the Professor realised just how pathetic a threat it was to report the pair to the headmaster.

"I'm sure he won't approve of this sort of lewd behaviour," McGonagall said primly, although the truth was she didn't know how Severus would react to the pair getting frisky. After all, he'd given them their own rooms so he must have had some idea that they were sexually active.

"I'm sure as a newly married man he can understand the need to get up close and personal with a sexy witch," Draco replied with a smirk.

McGonagall shuddered at the mention of Severus's sex life, which was almost as disturbing as witnessing his sister and her boyfriend in a compromising position.

"I think the pair of you need to get back to your dorms," McGonagall said sharply. "Now."

"It looks like we'll have to continue this later," Hermione said with a sigh as she tilted her head back to look at Draco.

"We will," Draco replied, dropping a kiss on his girlfriend's lips. "Although once we're in our dorms, we'll have a bed to utilise."

"Sounds good," Hermione purred, well aware that McGonagall was still standing frowning at them.

Ever so slowly the couple tore themselves away from one another. Hermione fastened up her shirt, which had been open the entire time and slipped into her shoes which had been discarded. Grabbing his shirt, Draco pulled it on but he didn't bother to fasten it. Nor did he bother to hide the obvious bulge in his trousers that showed McGonagall just what she'd disturbed.

"Disgusting behaviour," McGonagall muttered as the pair sauntered out of the room unfazed by the fact they'd been caught.

"Come on Professor, surely you were young and in love once," Draco teased with a laugh.

"I was always appropriate and well behaved," McGonagall retorted.

"Boring old trout," Hermione snickered under her breath.

McGonagall caught the insult and glared at the young witch she'd once been so fond of. Since the revelation about who she truly was, Hermione had changed dramatically and there were times McGonagall struggled to connect her with the polite, well-behaved girl she'd known for five years. However there were other times, mainly when she was hard at work or handed in an excellent piece of homework, that McGonagall was reminded of the girl she'd first met – the girl she'd had such high hopes for.

"I think I'm going to take twenty points off each of you," McGonagall said, wiping the smug smirks off the couple's face. She didn't think bringing Severus into things would help matters, but that didn't mean she couldn't punish the head students. "And if I catch you again, it'll be fifty points off each of you."

"You won't," Draco replied.

"Won't what?" McGonagall asked.

"Let you catch us," Draco said with a cheeky smile. "Next time we'll be more careful."

"Do you want to lose yet more points, Mr Malfoy?" McGonagall demanded through clenched teeth. Right now was the perfect example of why she'd never felt he was right for the job of head boy.

"I don't think so," Draco replied as he took hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her away from McGonagall. "Night, Professor."

McGonagall watched the pair leave, laughing merrily as they hurried away from her. Shaking her head, she turned and carried on towards her office. She'd always known Severus had made the wrong choice of head students, and that little display had just proven it. Draco and Hermione were not the right people for the job, but sadly there was nothing she could do about it. She would just have to be vigilant and if she got another chance to punish them for breaking the rules, she would take it. Maybe she would get lucky and have so many run-ins with the pair that Severus would be forced to intervene – but she wasn't going to count on anything like that happening. More than likely she would be the lone voice among the staff, rebelling against the dark and the power they had over Hogwarts.


	15. The First Move

**The First Move.**

For the first eleven years he spent teaching at Hogwarts, Severus could count the number of times he'd gone down to Hogsmeade for a drink on one hand. He'd quickly discovered that socialising among the staff was pretty rare, but even if it hadn't been, he still wouldn't have been a regular at either of the village pubs. For eleven years the second Severus had some free time, he'd gone straight home to spend it with Harry.

However, things had changed once Harry had started Hogwarts. Suddenly Severus couldn't spend his free time with his son, as Harry was at Hogwarts. Of course, Severus still went home often enough so he could spend time with his father and Beth, but on a whole he did have some extra free time on his hands, which was how he'd ended up venturing down into Hogsmeade a couple of times a week.

Severus had first being drawn to the shadier of the two pubs, The Hog's Head. The pub was dark and dingy, and was a good place for Severus to brood if he'd been having a rough day. However, it did attract an unsavoury class of drinkers and more often than not an evening out at The Hog's Head ended in a punch up. Not that Severus was ever involved in the fighting, but on more than one occasion he'd nearly been caught in the crossfire, and after one particular night when he'd been drenched in stale beer by accident, he decided to switch his allegiance to the other pub in the village, The Three Broomsticks.

Initially Severus wasn't a fan of the other pub in the village. It was too bright and breezy for his liking, but slowly it began to grow on him. It was actually easier to grab some peace and quiet in The Three Broomsticks, and if he settled himself in the corner, no-one bothered him. Then of course, The Three Broomsticks had a better class of staff. The landlord of The Hog's Head had been a wizened old wizard, whom according to rumours was Dumbledore's brother, while The Three Broomsticks was owned and ran by an attractive witch named Rosmerta.

Severus had noticed Rosmerta on his other couple of visits at the pub, but it wasn't until he was visiting regularly that he really appreciated how attractive she was. The stirrings of attraction he felt towards Rosmerta had taken Severus by surprise, and prompted overwhelming feelings of guilt in him. He'd never loved anyone but Lily, and he'd never thought he would, and it felt like a betrayal to her memory to even think about Rosmerta in a romantic light.

Even when Severus accepted that it wouldn't be betraying Lily to move on with his life, it didn't help him with Rosmerta. In fact all it really showed him was that he had no idea how to talk to an attractive woman. When he ordered his drinks, he tried to strike up witty conversation, but most of the time he failed. By the time, Harry was finishing his third year at Hogwarts, Severus was a regular at The Three Broomsticks, but he'd still never exchanged more than a few friendly words with Rosmerta.

When Harry's fourth year rolled round, and he went to the pub for the first time, he'd all but forgotten about his crush on Rosmerta. Given what was going on with his son, his lack of progress with the local barmaid seemed to pale into insignificance. However, Rosmerta didn't know what was going on, and she'd made an effort to engage him in conversation. Ironically, because he was pre-occupied with Harry, Severus found it easier to talk to Rosmerta and for the first time ever, he found himself engaging in flirtatious banter with the beautiful landlady. Although, banter was one thing, and it was another thing entirely to pluck up the courage to ask Rosmerta out.

It had been Lucius who had put the idea into his head, after he'd witnessed the interaction between Severus and Rosmerta. However, Severus had no idea how he would even broach the topic of asking her out. Every time he did try and ask her out, he would bottle it at the last moment. As Christmas neared, Severus had all but given up on asking Rosmerta out, and when he popped into the pub for a drink a couple of days before the Yule Ball, asking the gorgeous landlady out was the furthest thing on his mind.

"Rough week?" Rosmerta asked with a smile as Severus ordered a double firewhisky.

"Rough year," Severus replied, knocking back the drink and asking for another.

"I thought it would be fun having the Triwizard Tournament taking place," Rosmerta said, pouring a second drink and settling herself at the bar, so she could continue to talk to Severus.

"It might have been fun if a fourteen year old boy hadn't been dragged into it," Severus said, being careful not to reveal anything about his connection to Harry.

"I read about that," Rosmerta said. "How awful that the poor boy has been dragged into this. I would have thought Dumbledore could have found a way to get him out of it."

"We've tried everything we can, and he's stuck in the tournament," Severus said with a shrug. "So needless to say, the staff are doing all they can to ensure no harm comes to him."

"It's nice that you're so concerned about your students," Rosmerta said, reaching out and running her finger over the back of Severus's hand. "It shows you're a caring man."

"I don't know about that," Severus replied, feeling a jolt of energy running through him from Rosmerta's touch. "I have dark connections."

Severus watched Rosmerta, waiting for her to recoil as he reminded her of his allegiance, but she surprised him by not even flinching. If she was bothered by his darkness, she wasn't showing it. Or maybe she it was just because she didn't realise how entrenched he was in the darkness. Maybe she thought his loyalty to the darkness was interchangeable, and she could help him embrace the light.

"We all have light and dark in us," Rosmerta said quietly.

"Some of us have more dark in us than others," Severus retorted.

"Now it sounds like you're warning me off, Severus," Rosmerta laughed, a deep throaty laugh that send warm shivers down Severus's spine.

"I'm sure there's people queuing up to do that for me," Severus snorted.

"I've never met any of them," Rosmerta said. "In fact your friend spoke glowing of you."

"Friend?" Severus frowned in confusion.

"Lucius Malfoy," Rosmerta explained. "He caught me when the pair of you were in a few weeks ago."

"And just what did Lucius have to say for himself?" Severus asked, making a mental note to have a word with his friend.

"He told me you were quite a catch," Rosmerta said with a flirtatious smile. "According to Lucius, any witch would be lucky to have you. In fact I did wonder if he had a thing for you himself."

"Lucius?" Severus burst out laughing at the very idea his friend had romantic feelings for him. "Lucius is very much in love with his wife. If anything, he thinks of me as a little brother."

"Either way, he seemed intent on telling me what a good man you were," Rosmerta said. "Not that I needed telling, I'd already decided that you were a catch."

"Me? A catch?" Severus replied, eyes widening in surprise.

"Yes, Severus, a catch," Rosmerta purred, leaning over the bar and smiling seductively at him. "A very nice one."

"I don't know what to say," Severus croaked, feeling distinctly hot under the collar as his eyes fell to Rosmerta's heaving bosom.

"Lucius was right, you are rusty," Rosmerta said with a sigh.

"Sorry," Severus apologised with a wince. "Talking to beautiful witches doesn't come naturally to me."

"I don't know, you're doing quite well," Rosmerta said, chuckling lightly. "You're just lacking the final touch. You're not going to do it, are you?"

"Do what?"

"See," Rosmerta laughed as she shook her head. "If I don't do something, you're going to walk out of here, and we'll be no further forward than we were before you came in."

"I don't follow you, Rosmerta," Severus said.

"Let me be straight with you, Severus," Rosmerta said. "I like you. I like you're lovely. And I think you like me."

"I do," Severus confirmed.

"So, when two people like each other, they tend to do something about it," Rosmerta continued. "Like have dinner together."

"Dinner?" Severus squeaked, hardly able to believe that Rosmerta was making the first move.

"Yes dinner, Severus," Rosmerta replied with an amused smile. It really was rather sweet how flustered Severus was getting. "What do you think?"

"About dinner?" Severus questioned.

"About dinner, with me," Rosmerta clarified. "Why don't you come down to the pub one evening, I can take the night off and we can eat."

"I'd like that," Severus said, his face breaking out in a wide smile.

"So would I," Rosmerta replied. "But just for the record, I won't ask again Severus. I've made the first move, but what happens next is entirely up to you."

"I think I can handle that," Severus said with a nod.

"Make sure you do," Rosmerta said with a smile. "Now about this dinner. Are you free next week? I think I can squeeze you in between Christmas and New Year."

"Give me a time and date, and I'll be here," Severus responded.

Smiling warmly at Severus, Rosmerta plucked a date out of the air. With a time and date set, she got back to work and left Severus to his drink. Feeling on top of the world, Severus finished his drink and after promising to see Rosmerta soon, he headed back up to Hogwarts with a spring in his step. He'd never thought he would get a second chance at love, but here he was, with a date with a hot witch. He just hoped it went well and his date with Rosmerta was the first of many. After all, he couldn't mourn Lily forever, and it was time for him to move on.


	16. The Moment of Truth

**The Moment of Truth.**

The bright light of the full moon illuminated the large grounds of Draco and Hermione's house. Standing at their bedroom window, Hermione gazed out in search of Draco, who was currently running around in his wolf form. Hermione couldn't see any sign of her husband, although she knew he was outside somewhere, likely having a great time. Part of her wished she could join him as she usually did, but it wasn't possible at the moment as she was just days away from giving birth.

With Draco nowhere in sight, Hermione turned away from the window and gently ran her hand over her extended stomach, hoping that the baby she was carrying would stop moving around so much. All night the baby had been moving more than normal, and try as she might, Hermione couldn't help but worry what that might mean. Was there a reason her child was more active while there was a full moon in the sky?

"Please be good and go to sleep," Hermione murmured to her bump as she eased herself onto the large bed in the room.

However, the baby was clearly not in the mood to listen to its mother and it continued to wriggle about and kick in Hermione's womb. With the baby making sleep impossible, Hermione lay in bed unable to stop herself from fearing the worst. She didn't want to believe it, and she knew it would break Draco's heart, but she was beginning to think that their child had inherited his lycanthropy gene and would turn out to be a werewolf just like its father. Hermione was just hoping she was wrong, as not only would it devastate Draco to have passed on his werewolf legacy to his child, but it would likely break their marriage as well as Hermione hadn't been entirely truthful with her husband.

After Draco had made his feelings clear on the subject of children, Hermione had set about finding a way for them to have children without passing on Draco's werewolf tendencies. She'd been so sure she would find an answer Draco had missed, but by the time she'd been searching a year, she was still no further forward. In the end it had been Severus who had pointed her in the right direction and she'd discovered an ancient Chinese potion that claimed to protect an unborn child from the lycanthropy curse.

Hermione spent months studying the potion, only to find it wasn't a guaranteed protection. It only offered an eighty per cent chance of protecting the baby from becoming a werewolf. Knowing Draco wouldn't accept anything less than one hundred percent protection, Hermione roped her brother into her mission and in their free time they worked together to improve the potion and provide greater protection for an unborn child.

In the end the potion was so improved that there was less than a one percent chance it would fail. However, by that time Hermione had been desperate for a child and not wanting Draco to find a reason for them not to use the potion she told a small white lie and informed her husband that the potion was one hundred percent guaranteed to protect their child from been born a werewolf. Only she and Severus knew the truth, and Hermione had sworn her big brother to secrecy.

With so little chance of the potion failing, Hermione had almost convinced herself that the potion was a total guarantee. Even when Draco continued to worry, Hermione had remained calm and reassured her husband that everything was sorted and that their child would have zero chance of being a werewolf. However, over the last few months the baby had become very active and Hermione had noticed an increase in its activity on the previous full moon. That, added to the fact the baby was currently doing what felt like somersaults inside her, Hermione was beginning to worry that she was being punished for her white lie and despite the miniscule odds of it ever happening, the potion had failed and she was carrying a baby werewolf.

"Or maybe you're just missing your Daddy," Hermione muttered, stroking her bump and trying to reassure herself she was just being anxious for no good reason. "Don't worry, he'll be back in the morning."

Hermione tried her best to settle down for the night, but an hour later the baby was still kicking and squirming around. Admitting defeat, Hermione pulled herself out of bed with the intention of settling down with a mug of hot chocolate and a book. However, she didn't even make it across the room when she felt a squeezing pain in her stomach and rush of liquid from between her legs.

"No, no, no," she muttered, shaking her head. "Not tonight."

Glancing at the clock, Hermione found it was nearly half past one in the morning. Knowing there was still hours to go before Draco transformed back into his human form, Hermione tried to decide what to do for the best. She knew the best thing to do was to go to the hospital, but she didn't want to leave without Draco. However, just sitting tight and doing nothing until the sun rose wasn't really an option.

Making her way from the bedroom, Hermione connected the floo and called her mother. Despite it being the middle of the night, it didn't take Beth long to answer the call and when she found out Hermione's waters had broken she insisted her daughter get to the hospital right away.

"I will be there in two minutes," Beth informed her daughter, as she ended the call.

True to her word, two minutes later she appeared through the floo network, hastily dressed and ready to go.

"What about Draco?" Hermione asked her mother. "He needs to be here for this."

"You can hardly take a wolf into the delivery room with you," Beth retorted. "Your father knows what's going on. Either he'll come here and wait for Draco, or he'll send Harry or Severus. But there's nothing we can do until the sun rises."

"I guess not," Hermione admitted. "But I wanted Draco with me."

"And there's a good chance he will be with you," Beth replied. "Babies can take their time in arriving. Draco could very well be back and at the hospital before the baby is born."

"I hope so," Hermione muttered as she summoned her bag.

Wishing it was her husband accompanying her, Hermione allowed her mother to escort her to the private hospital the family used. Hermione had booked a private room for the birth, and she was quickly settled into her room before the mediwitch's examined her and sent for her healer. The healer they'd been seeing had been made aware of Draco's condition, and he'd promised that he could run a test as soon as the baby was born to check that he didn't have the lycanthropy gene.

Beth remained by Hermione's side as her labour began, and the mediwitch's kept them informed of family members arriving. However, there was only one person Hermione truly wanted with her, and he couldn't be by her side before sunrise.

"Please hold on a bit longer," Hermione begged the baby. "Daddy will be here soon."

"I would say the signs point to a decent length labour," the healer informed Hermione, well aware of the reason Draco wasn't here.

"So I'm not going to give birth before sunrise?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"I would doubt it," the healer replied with a smile. "But babies can be surprising," he added cautiously.

Luckily the healer's prediction seemed to be right as the hours passed and Hermione's labour progressed fairly slowly. Although even though Hermione was pleased the baby was hanging on for Draco, she wasn't a fan of the hours of pain and as sunrise approached she was more than ready to welcome her son or daughter into the world.

"It's sunrise," Beth finally whispered to Hermione, after what had seemed like the longest night of Hermione's life.

"It's about bloody time," Hermione snarled. "So where's Draco?"

"Give him a chance. He'll be here as soon as he can," Beth assured her daughter.

Ten minutes later, Draco burst into the room, looking unusually dishevelled, just as Hermione let out a loud cry of pain as another contraction hit her.

"I can't believe I almost missed this," Draco cried, running to his wife's bedside. "I couldn't believe it when I found Harry waiting for me this morning."

"The important thing is that you're here now," Beth said. "Do you want me to stay, or would you rather I went?" she asked Hermione, who was still clinging onto her hand despite the arrival of her husband.

"Stay," Hermione panted. "I need you both here."

"We're here sweetheart," Draco soothed, taking hold of Hermione's other hand.

Even with Draco present the baby still took its sweet time in arriving and it was going on for midday before Hermione gave a final push and their firstborn child entered the world with a healthy wail. Immediately the mediwitch's checked the baby over, before the healer took charge and quietly performed the test that would determine if the child had the werewolf gene.

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs Malfoy, you have a healthy baby boy," the healer announced as he handed the baby over to Hermione.

"Completely healthy and normal?" Draco checked.

"Completely," the healer confirmed with a nod, understanding exactly what Draco was asking.

"Thank Merlin," Draco whispered in relief, pressing a kiss to the top of Hermione's head as he gazed down at his son.

"I'll go and let the others know the good news," Beth offered, wanting to give her daughter and son-in-law some time alone with their baby.

"Thanks Mum," Hermione said, smiling at her mother as she left the room, along with the healer and mediwitch's. Like Draco, she was giddy with relief at the news that their son wasn't a werewolf, obviously he'd just been extra active over the last couple of full moons as he'd been missing his father's presence.

"Thank you," Draco said to his wife as he continued to gaze at the child in her arms.

"You played your part in his creation," Hermione laughed.

"I didn't mean that," Draco said seriously. "Thank you for not giving up and finding the potion that enabled us to have a healthy, wolf-free son."

"I told you that I wanted a family with you, Draco. And I always get what I want," Hermione replied.

"I know you do," Draco laughed. "But I did wonder if this was beyond even your talents."

"Nonsense," Hermione tutted. "I told you we were going to get our baby, and here he is."

"Just perfect," Draco whispered. "And with this potion we can even have a few more."

"Not for a long time," Hermione muttered with a wince.

Not only had the labour been tiring, but she wasn't sure about pushing her luck with the potion a second time, even though the odds were still in favour of it working. At least not yet, maybe in a while she would feel differently and they would embark on the chance of adding to their family.

"I wasn't talking right this minute," Draco chuckled. "Let's enjoy this little one first. So what do you think we should call him?"

"You choose," Hermione answered wearily as she let Draco take their son out of her arms. Over the last couple of months they'd been talking about names and had two boy's names and two girl's names picked out, all of which drew their inspiration from the heavens as was the tradition with Draco's family.

Holding his son in his arms, Draco stared down at the tiny bundle for quite a while before making his decision. "Scorpius," he announced. "His name is Scorpius Malfoy."

"I like it," Hermione said with a smile. "Now I think it's time for Scorpius to meet the family."

For the next hour, Scorpius was introduced to the family and was the centre of attention. By the time he'd met everyone, and been thoroughly fussed over, he was drifting off to sleep. Hermione wasn't much better, and no sooner had everyone left than she was fast asleep, with Scorpius asleep in his father's arms. Sitting beside Hermione's bed, Draco held onto his son as he slept, feeling blow away that he was finally a father. He would forever love Hermione for the wonderful gift she'd just given him. Not only had she given him a gorgeous son, but she'd proven to him once and for all that his life wouldn't be missing anything important even though he was now a werewolf.


	17. Full Moon

**Full Moon.**

Harry was bubbling with excitement as he dined at Malfoy Manor on the night of the first full moon after leaving Hogwarts. He was finally about to witness Draco's transformation into a werewolf, and get to know his best friend in his wolf form, and he couldn't wait. He knew the following month, Draco's friends would also get their chance to see Draco in his wolf form, but as virtual family to the blond wizard, he was getting the first opportunity to witness werewolf Draco.

With it being a full moon, dinner was taken slightly earlier than normal. Seated opposite Draco, Harry was rather perturbed to find the steak on his best friend's plate was virtually raw. Although beside him, Hermione's steak wasn't much better, and it was far pinker than she would normally eat it.

"Problem Harry?" Hermione asked, catching her nephew's uneasy glances at both her and Draco's food.

"No," Harry replied, dropping his head back to his own food.

"You get used to it," Lucius said with a chuckle.

"Used to what?" Draco asked, spearing a piece of steak on his fork and popping it into his mouth.

"I think Harry's a bit put off by your steak," Hermione informed her fiancé.

"Sorry," Draco apologised with a wince. "It probably looks like I'm eating raw meat."

"Just a bit," Harry admitted.

"It's all part and parcel of being a werewolf," Hermione said.

"I know, I can remember Greyback mentioning it," Harry replied. "I just can't recall ever seeing Draco eating such rare meat."

"I don't usually have my meat this rare," Draco said. "But it's the full moon tonight and I'm already feeling the changes."

"And your meat is rather pink," Harry remarked to Hermione.

"It's a side effect of the biting," Hermione answered warily. Even though all their issues about Draco biting her had been resolved, she didn't like to mention it too often around Harry.

"Note to self, don't let a werewolf bite you. I like my meat well done," Harry said jokingly.

"Don't worry Harry, you're not my type," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes at his best friend before shooting a searing look at Hermione.

Harry could almost feel the sparks flying between the pair, and he couldn't help but wonder if things were extra heated between them because of the full moon. He knew afterwards that they were always extra randy, but for all he knew, they could be equally lustful before the full moon.

Thankfully, Harry didn't have to worry about Draco and Hermione getting frisky as dinner was finished without incident. Once they'd finished eating, they spent an hour relaxing before making their way into the back garden to prepare for the moon to rise.

"Do you have any advice for handling a werewolf, Aunt Hermione?" Harry asked, throwing his arm around Hermione's shoulder.

"I have some advice," Draco said. "Keep your hands off my fiancée."

"Seriously?" Harry laughed. "She's my Aunt. You know there's nothing going on."

"I do know that," Draco confirmed with a nod of his head. "But I also know that Hermione is my mate and that mating instinct is very strong when I'm in my wolf form. I have a lot more control these days, but when it comes to Hermione, I wouldn't want to test that control."

"Okay, hands off Hermione," Harry said, removing his arm and edging away from his aunt.

"It's for the best," Draco said with a grin.

"So what happens now?" Harry asked.

"We have two options," Draco replied. "I can either leave and return in my wolf form, or I can do it here."

"You'd let us watch?" Hermione asked. Even though she'd been around Draco plenty in his wolf form, she'd yet to witness a transformation.

"I would," Draco said. "So what's it to be?"

"I want the whole experience," Harry replied.

"Okay, just don't get too close," Draco warned as he took a couple of steps backwards and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Harry demanded as Draco removed his shirt and started to unbuckle his trousers.

"I'm not ruining good clothes," Draco said as he stepped out of his trousers. "But don't worry Harry, I'm not going to strip off completely. I'll leave my boxers on."

"That's a relief," Harry muttered as Hermione gathered up Draco's clothes and folded them neatly. "How long do we have to wait?" he asked.

"Not long," Draco replied as he raised his head towards the sky.

Less than two minutes later, Draco's body began to vibrate and Harry watched with fascination as his best friend began to slowly transform before his eyes. As hair began to sprout on Draco's body, his shape also began to change, and at one point he resembled the half wolf, half man creature Remus Lupin had been. However, Draco's transformation didn't stop where Lupin's used to and he carried on until the man he was vanished and was fully replaced by a stunning grey wolf.

"Wow," Harry whispered as wolf-Draco turned his head to face him and Hermione. "That is so cool."

"Very," Hermione agreed. Stepping forward, she held out her hand for Draco to nuzzle at her palm. "Hey gorgeous," she cooed, squatting down beside Draco and tickling behind his ears. "Come and say hello, Harry."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked warily as he cautiously approached Hermione and Draco.

"Come on Harry, he doesn't bite," Hermione chuckled.

"Tell that to Ginny," Harry retorted.

"Okay he doesn't bite unless I ask him to," Hermione amended with a grin. "Stop being a wuss, Harry. Unless you're going to either hurt me, or try and ravish me, Draco won't hurt you."

Hoping that Hermione was right and that Draco had as much control as they all thought he had, Harry took the final step towards his best friend. Crouching down beside Hermione, he allowed Draco to sniff at his hand before stroking his head.

"His fur is so soft," he remarked to Hermione.

"He's a beautiful wolf," Hermione replied. "I hope I look as good when I become an animagus."

"I can't wait," Harry said, aware that Draco was getting restless and was eager to go and hunt. "Won't it be fun to run around with Draco?"

"It will," Hermione agreed as she and Harry backed away to allow Draco to go and roam free. "Off you go," she urged her fiancé when he didn't immediately race off.

Not needing a second invitation, Draco turned and raced off into the night. Within seconds the air was pierced by a loud howl, causing Harry to jump slightly. With a laugh, Hermione reassured her nephew that it was just Draco and he would be back once he'd had a bit of fun.

"When do you think we can start our animagus training?" Harry asked as they waited for Draco to return.

"Let's give everyone a few weeks to get used to life outside of Hogwarts," Hermione replied. "It'll also give me a chance to gather together all the information we're going to need. But if we work hard, we could be joining Draco by the end of the year."

"I hope I'm something cool," Harry remarked, his eyes focused on a grey shadow creeping towards them.

Hermione murmured her agreement, but her focus was on Draco, who was returning to them. Draco bounded over to them, and after running around them for a while, he went running back off into the grounds. He repeated the same pattern for a couple of hours, before Hermione got him to sit still long enough to tell him that she and Harry were going indoors for the night.

"I'll be waiting for you," she promised seductively, nuzzling at the soft fur on Draco's neck.

Draco responded with a low growl before he went flying into the night, leaving Hermione and Harry to return to the manor and make sure that the large house was secured just in case Draco lost control and tried to come indoors. Not that either of them thought it was going to happen as it was clear that he had a lot of control in his wolf form, and it was only getting stronger.

"What did you think?" Hermione asked her nephew as she walked him to the floo so he could head home.

"It was amazing," Harry replied. "Thank Draco for me, and tell him I'll come and see him tomorrow."

"Not too early," Hermione warned with a smirk.

"Definitely not too early," Harry agreed, not wanting to see anything that would haunt him in the future.

Saying their goodbyes, Harry headed back home, while Hermione headed up to Draco's room. Glancing outside, and seeing no sign of Draco, Hermione undressed and crawled into bed to grab a few hours' sleep before Draco returned at the break of dawn and they worked off their animal sexual energy.


	18. Wedding Bells

**Wedding Bells.**

Beth was feeling the nerves as she got ready to get married. She could hardly believe that she was sitting in one of the guest rooms at the Malfoys villa in the south of France, preparing to marry the love of her life. The last few years had been a whirlwind for Beth following her first meeting with Voldemort at Blueback Ridge. True to his word, he'd helped her master the dark arts, but he'd also brought love into her life. The spark had been there from the beginning, but she hadn't been sure it was going to develop into anything more. Now here she was, getting ready to marry him.

Voldemort had proposed a few short months ago, and since they didn't want a fancy wedding, they'd pressed ahead with a small, intimate ceremony. Their only guests would be Lucius and his wife, Narcissa. The young couple had kindly allowed Beth and Voldemort the use of their villa for the ceremony and short honeymoon.

Beth had been taken aback by her friendship with Narcissa, given who her sister was. From the moment she'd arrived in England, Bellatrix had taken against her, and Beth had expected Narcissa to be the same. However, she'd soon found that Narcissa was the complete opposite of her sister. She was completely welcoming towards Beth and the two witches had struck up a strong friendship over the last couple of years.

As a result of Beth's friendship with Narcissa, Lucius had been given the chance to get into Voldemort's inner circle. Beth knew Voldemort had already earmarked Lucius as his most promising young Death Eater, but as the pair had come into more contact over the last few years, a friendship had also started to build between them. Beth suspected Voldemort wasn't quite ready to consider Lucius a friend, but in a few years she suspected that her husband to be would class Lucius as a friend – just like she already classed Narcissa as a friend.

"How's it going?" Narcissa asked, poking her head around the bedroom door as if summoned by the direction of Beth's thoughts.

"I'm so nervous," Beth confided as Narcissa entered the room, looking gorgeous in a deep plum dress.

"It's only to be expected," Narcissa said with a smile. "I was a bag of nerves before I married Lucius."

"Were you nervous about marrying him, or nervous about the actual wedding?" Beth questioned. When she met Narcissa, she and Lucius had just been married and Beth knew it had been a big society wedding.

"A bit of both," Narcissa confessed with a smile as she sat down next to Beth. "Our wedding was massive, and I was nervous about making a fool of myself."

"At least I don't have that to worry about," Beth said with a slight chuckle.

"I guess not," Narcissa agreed with a smile. "But whether you're getting married in front of two people or two hundred, it's still a big thing."

"And then there's the marriage itself," Beth said quietly. She was in no doubt that Voldemort loved her, but she had to admit she had her doubts that he was ready to be a husband.

"You don't think The Dark Lord loves you?" Narcissa asked with a frown.

"I know he loves me, I just don't know if he's ready for marriage," Beth confided. "I know he doesn't want to lose the standing he had with his Death Eaters, and I'm afraid that I might infringe on that. I don't want to lose him because he feels he can't be with me and still get the power he craves."

"I'm sure if anyone can juggle the two lives, it's The Dark Lord," Narcissa said gently. "He wouldn't have asked you to marry him if he wasn't sure. He's not one for rash decisions. Especially not ones that will change his life forever. You have to trust he knows what he's doing."

"I do trust him," Beth said with a nod. "I just want this to work."

"And it will," Narcissa reassured her. "Just have faith."

"You sound like my grandmother," Beth said with a sad smile. "The very last thing she said to me was to have faith, and that one day I would get the life I deserve."

"Sounds like good advice," Narcissa said with a nod.

"It was," Beth agreed. "And that reminds me, I have something that she gave me."

Getting up from where she was sitting, Beth walked over the bag she'd brought with her and pulled out a small wooden box. Taking the box back over to where Narcissa was, she sat down next to her friend and ran her fingers over the dark, smooth wood.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked.

"My grandmother gave it to me before she died," Beth answered. "She said it was a family heirloom and it passed down the generations when each witch got married. She never got a chance to give it to my mother, but she gave it to me and made me promise to open it on my wedding day."

"So open it," Narcissa urged.

With a small smile, Beth flicked open the box and found a stunning emerald bracelet nestled on black velvet. With trembling fingers she plucked the bracelet out of the box and examined it. It truly was stunning, and although she was no expert, she thought it was made from genuine emeralds.

"Do you want me to help you fasten it?" Narcissa offered.

"Thanks," Beth said, handing her friend the bracelet, which she promptly fastened on her wrist.

"It's lovely," Narcissa said.

"It is," Beth said. "And it feels as though I have my grandparents here with me. I'm ready to get married now."

"Let's go then," Narcissa said with a chuckle as she got to her feet and smoothed down her dress. "Do you have everything?"

Walking over to the mirror, Beth checked that she wasn't missing anything. Instead of going for a traditional wedding dress, she was wearing a mid-length, figure hugging ivory dress. She teamed the dress with a beaded shrug and a pair of ivory sandals. Her brunette curls had been tamed and pinned up on top of her head, and before she'd placed the bracelet on her wrist, the only jewellery she was wearing was a pair of diamond earrings that had been a birthday present from Voldemort the previous year.

"Are you sure I look okay?" Beth asked, wondering if she should have gone more traditional with her outfit.

"You look lovely," Narcissa replied honestly. "The perfect bride."

Beth chuckled lightly at the compliment, and after checking her appearance one final time, she left the guest bedroom with Narcissa. Together the two witches walked down the stairs and out to the poolside, where the ceremony was due to take place. Voldemort and Lucius were already waiting with the minister Voldemort had arranged to preside over the ceremony.

"You look amazing, Beth," Voldemort said with a low whistle.

"Thank you," Beth replied, smiling at Voldemort, who was looking very handsome in a set of black dress robes.

"So are you ready to become my wife?" Voldemort asked, holding out his hand.

"I am," Beth replied, taking hold of her fiancé's hand.

While Lucius and Narcissa took their places to watch the ceremony, Beth and Voldemort stood in front of the minister. Exchanging small smiles, they held each other's hands as the minister began his spiel about marriages and what they entailed. Finally it was time for the vows, and both Beth and Voldemort said a few words about how much they loved each other before they exchanged rings and were pronounced husband and wife.

"Thank you," Voldemort whispered as he held onto Beth.

"What for?" Beth asked with a frown, looking up at her new husband in confusion.

"Making me the happiest wizard in the world," Voldemort replied, keeping his voice low. He may have just exchanged heartfelt vows in front of Lucius and Narcissa, but that was more than enough emotion to be showing in front of anyone other than Beth.

"Snap," Beth replied with a grin. "Because I'm the happiest witch alive."

Grinning down at his wife, Voldemort swept her into a searing kiss as they sealed their marriage in sensational style. When they finally tore themselves away from each other, they sorted the formalities with the minister and signed the appropriate paperwork, with Lucius and Narcissa as witnesses.

"I'm trusting you to bury this, Lucius," Voldemort said, handing over the official documentation to his follower.

"You can trust me, My Lord," Lucius replied with an incline of his head. "No-one will find out you're married."

"Thank you," Voldemort returned. "And thank you for everything you've done to help this wedding happen."

"It's my pleasure," Lucius said with a small smile. "I hope you enjoy your honeymoon."

"We will," Beth answered with a wide smile.

With the ceremony over, and the paperwork sorted, the minister, Lucius and Narcissa said their goodbyes and made their departures. Left alone in a luxury villa in the South of France, Voldemort and Beth then got to work on celebrating their union. For almost two weeks they remained at the villa, enjoying a romantic honeymoon, before they returned home to begin their new life together as husband and wife. Together they were going to rule the wizarding world, and woe betide anyone who stood in their way.


End file.
